


Bound to you

by AchillesLament (11Mydesign11), You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ThreeofSwords, Anal Fingering, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Betrayal, Biting, Bottom Hannibal, Bottom Will Graham, Christmas, Dark Will, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fishing, Forgiveness, Hannigram - Freeform, Jealous Hannibal, Jealous Will, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Marking, No heterosexual sex, Sexual Tension, They Flip, Top Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Valentine's Day, becoming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-03-17 08:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13655607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11Mydesign11/pseuds/AchillesLament, https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am/pseuds/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve - neither Hannibal nor Will have family nearby, and the good Doctor invites Will for dinner. A strange connection binds the two starkly different men. When Will finally chooses to explore it further, things escalate into a dramatic encounter that alters both men’s futures forever. Part of Hannibal CreAteIve and Fannibal Fest Toronto’s Three Of Swords Valentine’s Day Event.





	1. Chapter 1

The snow was coming down hard in Wolf Trap, and Will messed with his tie, finally pulling it off altogether and tossing it to the bed in frustration. He picked up his phone. It was at least an hour to Hannibal’s in good weather, and he knew how the good Doctor felt about punctuality. Sliding his fingers over the screen, he ordered a taxi and retrieved the little flask of whiskey he kept with him, filling it and putting it in the breast pocket of his sport coat. A bit of liquid courage never hurt.

Hannibal had invited him to his home for Christmas Eve dinner. He knew the agent didn’t have family to spend the holidays with, and in truth, his plans were typically the same as they were every night - cozy up to the fireplace with his seven dogs. Part of him wondered if Hannibal only invited him out of pity. And yet another part of him wondered if there could be more there. He’d never had such a difficult time reading anyone the way he did the austere man.

He’d deliberately shunned the notion that Hannibal was his “therapist”. It made it too difficult to open up to him in any way. Instead, the mutual sharing of thoughts, discussing cases, made Hannibal’s probing questions a little more palatable when framed in that light. More “friendship” and less “therapy”.  _ Just keep it professional _ , he could remember hearing himself say. How easily he’d circumnavigated that little boundary. Hannibal had a way of tearing down all the neatly made barriers he’d put up though, annihilating them with one little quirk of his lip, the silky smooth turn of a phrase, or that intense eye contact he always tried to seek with Will. He had to ask himself what it was that kept him ensnared, riveted, drawn to him.

There was plenty to like about Hannibal. He was charming and intelligent, offering amazing insight and making him ask questions he might not otherwise ask. He had a way of doing that, in fact - asking all the  _ right _ questions and leading him to a conclusion that was there all along, in the forefront of his mind’s eye, but often blocked by the barrage of emotions and ideas that rampaged through his mind constantly. It was almost like he already had all the answers, but would lead Will to them in such a way that it seemed like it was there all along. Obvious. It was both unnerving and inspiring. He brought order to chaos, and Will found it comforting in a way, and maybe that’s why he kept coming back time and again.

When Hannibal had extended the invitation to him, he was at once arrested with the idea that he ought to bring him something, a gift. He had selected the item, and it was currently in an inauspicious looking envelope, laying up against his little flask of Jameson’s in his pocket, and as he sat in the back of the car on the way to his house, he debated even presenting it to him. After all, what does one even give a man like Hannibal?

He’d located a bottle of wine - nothing fancy - and it seemed futile bringing it, but coming empty-handed didn’t feel right. Aside from the wine though, Will felt the need to bring a Christmas gift. What do you give someone who’s wealthy, refined, and doesn’t really actually need anything? What he’d selected in the end was very personal, yet meaningful to him, and he hoped it would be taken as such by the Doctor. Time would tell though, and he took another swig of his whiskey in an effort to soothe his nerves. Why was he nervous? This was simply a visit to a friend’s home, wasn’t it? Of course though, there was a bit of a reason to be nervous. If Will was honest with himself, he was harboring the smallest of crushes on the handsome, tall, distinguished gentleman. He scoffed at himself at the idea, finding it wholly unlikely and absurd Hannibal would ever see anything in him. An unkempt, homely teacher and FBI agent, he considered himself far out of the league of someone like Doctor Lecter, and he knew it. Of course, he sometimes picked up on a lingering look here or there from the man, but it seemed incredible to read anything further into it. He was a fly fisherman in his free time, while Hannibal threw extravagant dinner parties for Baltimore’s elite and went to the Opera. They were from two different worlds.

And once again, he interpreted this Christmas Eve dinner invite as just a courteous and thoughtful thing, most likely out of pity for poor, lonely Will Graham. Honestly if it had been anyone else, he would have rebuffed it and not bothered going. As it was, he didn’t really want to go. But, Alana had been telling him it would be good to get out, socialize a little more, get out of his comfort zone. The idea of socializing was disgusting and abhorrent. But going to Hannibal’s for a simple dinner seemed doable. After all he enjoyed his company, conversation, and wasn’t too hard to look at. He chided himself and took another drink before slipping the bottle back into his pocket as the driver turned down Hannibal’s street.

The man dropped him off and Will climbed out, thanking him and smoothing down his shirt and jacket before walking up to the front door and ringing the bell.

***

The feast was nearly finished, and Hannibal dried his hands when he heard the bell, a cool smile curving on his shapely lips. He took a look around; the fire burned bright, his elegant Christmas decor going well with it, and the home smelled heavenly from the meal he was preparing. The only thing that made this holiday better, was that Will Graham was going to accompany him, and the good doctor couldn’t think of a better way to spend it. Wine poured, and gifts under the tree, Hannibal walked over to the door, and opened it, taking in the man he considered his very dear friend, and he hoped, one day more. “Hello, Will, right on time,” he said, his accent rich and thick, like smooth Cognac just dripping down the inside of a glass. “Please, come in. May I take your coat?”

Will looked up and suddenly felt his cheeks warm inexplicably when he laid eyes on the doctor. Maybe that last swig of whiskey in the cab was too much. His gaze flickered on the man’s handsome, sharply angled features for the briefest of moments before looking down awkwardly. He held the bottle of wine out and stomped the snow off his boots. “Thank you. Merry Christmas,” he said with a lopsided, half-hearted smile, stepping inside the doorway.

“And a Merry Christmas to you, Will,” Hannibal smiled, warm and genuine, taking his friend’s coat to hang before closing the door behind them. He smelled the whiskey, the scent of dogs, as well as pine, as keen eyes roved down to see the wine. “An excellent year, thank you.”

Will walked inside the doorway, looking around and chuckling nervously. “Well, I didn’t have any idea what you would be making, but the guy at the store said Pinot Noir goes with almost anything,” he replied, rubbing his arms in an effort to smooth his clothes down. He always felt horrendously underdressed around the Doctor, who of course was poised, perfectly coiffed, and impeccably - unnerving - handsome. He nodded and made another fleeting attempt at eye contact as he finally shoved his hands in his pants pockets, moving through the foyer and into the living room. “Smells good.”

"Indeed it does, and thank you, Will. I’ll let it breathe a bit," Hannibal smiled, watching Will's body language, and taking the opportunity to look at his exquisite posterior as he walked passed him. It was done in a somewhat subtle manner, though he often enjoyed looking at him. The attraction was primarily of the mind, and connection, but naturally Doctor Lecter found Will Graham very attractive. "Would you like some hot cider while I finish our supper?"

“That sounds good, yes. Ever made mulled wine? My father used to make it every holiday. I was about nine the first time he let me have a sip. I felt like a real badass,” he chuckled, walking over to a painting above the mantle in Hannibal’s living room. Everything in his home was exquisite and deliberate, not just expensive or needlessly ornamental. He could feel the history and energy behind it all. Doctor Lecter had been right about one thing; he definitely found him interesting.

“Yes I have,” Hannibal grinned, unable to help it when he saw Will smile like that. The doctor canted his head as went over to the pot of hot cider and ladled out a mug of it for his guest - his friend - and then himself. “Here we are,” he said, smooth and yet raspy, offering over the spirited beverage to Will. After a quick glance at the food, he walked back over to stand behind him, smelling his friend once more. “Was it the effects that the wine might have had, and the knowledge of such that did so, or the fact that you were being allowed to be…bad?”

Will took the mug with a nod and thought about the question, trying to ignore the way Hannibal stood too close. He could feel his cheeks warming all over again, just as he’d regained his composure, the proximity of the elegant man leaving him flustered. “It was the _ idea _ of being bad, I suppose. Doing something I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t drink enough to feel anything, though I liked to think I did, of course. What about you? Did you ever do anything forbidden, and get a thrill from it?” he quirked a brow and looked Hannibal over, sniffing the cider.

“I was prone to the occasional mischief,” Hannibal said, the words rolling off his tongue as he met Will’s eyes, and attempted to hold that striking, and somehow coy gaze from the brilliant, cunning boy before him. The flush on his skin was delectable, which made the good, intrusive doctor probe a bit more. “How long has it been since you’ve allowed yourself the opportunity to indulge in something…naughty?”

How was it this man had the power to make him feel like a giddy, nervous schoolboy? The way he looked at him, as though he was some kind of succulent cut of meat, made Will blush to the tips of his ears. He ran a hand through loose curls and let a smirk cover his mouth, averting his eyes bashfully. “ _ Naughty?  _ Farther back than I can recall. I spend too much time trying to be a responsible adult, keep my life together such as it is. So much chaos, routine and order seem comforting. So yes, it’s been a long time,” he answered, pursing his lips to blow the steamy drink cool enough to drink.

“Even responsible adults are allowed the occasional indulgence,” Hannibal offered, taking up his mug to blow on it, his eyes on Will as it cooled. He took a sip, licking his lips slowly, enjoying this little push of the envelope after a pregnant pause. Best not to give away the game all at once; no, it would be savored, so he didn’t ask anything further…for now. “Shall we begin our meal, then?”

Blue eyes were tempted to wander to Hannibal’s lush lips just as he licked them, and he coughed in an attempt to conceal his distraction. “Oh of course, yes. Smells really good, as always,” he said, voice rough from his coughing. He took a sip of cider, moaning softly as the hot fluid filled him with an instant sense of comfort. “Oh, this is perfect,” he hummed, following the tall doctor into the dining room.

Hannibal turned at the moan, the soft, rough sound traveling into his ears, where he let it resound, composing his own symphony from it that would play in his memory palace. “Thank you,” he said, not showing any of the aforementioned emotion or resonance. He instead, smiled, and pulled out the chair for Will. “I’ll bring our supper. Please have a seat, Will.”

Will could feel Hannibal’s eyes on him, as he always had, somehow more acutely tonight than ever before. Without thinking, he arched his back slightly as he sat, popping his ass out just the slightest bit as he lowered himself into the seat. He looked up at Hannibal through his lashes and wondered if the cider and whiskey hadn’t finally gone to his head. “Thank you. It will be good to get some food in me, for sure.”

The doctor certainly noticed that. He nodded his head, swallowing thickly as he went to set their food on the table. He announced it first, and then leaned close to Will as he placed his down before him. “I always want to see you sated,” Hannibal commented, near Will’s ear and then sat down.

The doctor’s voice, and the suggestion of his words, dripped down Will’s spine like honey, down to a heat that was simmering in his belly and spreading over his thighs. His throat clicked as he took the next sip of his hot beverage, and he loosened the collar of his shirt a bit. He exhaled a bit more heavily than would be considered appropriate at the dinner table; in truth, in came out more like a gasp. “Oh…”

Hannibal eyed Will from across the table, forgoing his normal spot at the head of the table so that he could have direct line of sight with him. At the breathy ‘Oh’, the doctor sniffed a little snarl, and sipped more of his cider, leaning forward a bit. “Of course, that is providing you are… hungry,” he said, the words continuing to have double meaning. “Are you indeed, Will? Do you find yourself  _ craving _ what is before you? I, myself, am famished to the point of impending gluttony.”

Will found his hands shaking to an unnerving degree as he reached for a utensil, eager to focus on anything but the growing heat between his legs. Of course the words he spoke were evocative, meaning laced between each curl of the man’s devilish tongue. He severed a bite with his fork and slipped it between his lips just as his eyes finally lifted to meet Hannibal’s gaze. Will hummed yet again, a deep sound of appreciation as the flavors burst across his tongue...nothing he could identify, all he knew was it melted like butter and flooded him with a nearly orgasmic experience to his senses. He knew very well he was playing a dangerous game, and yet there was the temptation, right in front of him. He licked his lips meaningfully as he stared straight into Hannibal’s eyes. “I’m famished enough to know this is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever... _ tasted _ ,” he said, one eyebrow quirked ever so slightly at the last word.  

“No problems with taste now, then,” Hannibal grinned, seductively, as he threw back to their first conversation in Jack Crawford’s office. He wrapped his lips around his fork and took a slow bite, not breaking eye contact as his cock stirred in his fine trousers. Their chemistry was like fire, starting off with a simmer and had led to a fierce boil. What began as an intellectual connection, for the doctor, had soon turned into the physical, which was a rarity for Hannibal Lecter. Sure, he’d slept with others in the past, but there was usually an angle to it. With Will, however, love was his reason.

“Not with something so carefully tailored to my palate, Doctor Lecter. It’s as if you know what I like before I do. Perhaps you do know me better than I know myself, hm?” he asked, part of him surprised at how bold he’d become with Hannibal. There was an interesting mix of tension and comfort between them that carried over from their sessions. He found his vision draw to Hannibal’s mouth, the sensuous way he ate, his deliberate swallow as the food traveled down his neck. Will Graham had certainly had suitors before and even been attracted to others before, but no one remotely comparable to the man before him.  

“I know you, just as you do me,” Hannibal offered, taking a slow sip of his beverage as he grinned around the rim of the glass. He set it down, his fingers skating over the table before they traveled back to his fork, for another bite. “And with that knowledge, comes a peek behind the curtain of your mind, as well as what I feel you would enjoying partaking of. As such, yes, I think your lips, tongue, and any other of your exquisite parts are in deft, capable hands, so to speak.”

The words left Will’s cheeks stained crimson, and he could feel it as it happened, leaving him lightheaded. There he sat, like trembling prey, thickening against the slacks he’d chosen - the best ones he owned, other than his suit - and yet still likely considered scruffy by Hannibal’s standards. Be that as it were, he smiled around his fork, the next bite stabbed and taken in haste to circumvent the noise he nearly made at the suggestive tone of Hannibal’s voice. Pausing to swallow carefully, his brow quirked in the doctor’s direction, blue eyes narrowed on him, a bit more bold. It was a chess game, the flirtations, one that made their exchanges the most exciting he’d ever enjoyed. “Are they, then? I’d expect nothing less from the surgeon, the chef, artist, a craftsman such as yourself. I’m sure you’re accustomed to...having your hands full.”

“I am accustomed to it but I never really get the chance to savor, which is what I very much long for,” Hannibal murmured, his eyes penetrating Will’s as he took the last bite of the meal and followed it with another sip of his drink. “That and the opportunity to mold and shape…leave what I have possessed into something new, and beautiful. Would you consider yourself pliant, Will? At least to some degree?”

A gentle shudder of pleasure resonated through Will. He took the last bite and drained his wine glass, focusing thoughtfully as he very slowly chewed his food, savoring it himself, more demonstrably than he would have in anyone else company. Setting his glass down, he raised both eyebrows in amusement. “I’d say I’m as stubborn as they come, but with the right influence, yes, I think so. If I let it happen. The trick is to know when it is happening, isn’t it, Doctor Lecter? To consciously allow the change. The reward is so much more satisfying when you know it’s been chosen.” He rubbed his palms on his thighs and met Hannibal’s gaze evenly.

“Quite right,” Hannibal rumbled, as he rubbed his wine glass against his lips, inhaling the rich bouquet there before another sip was taken. He set it down and leaned forward, pushing his empty plate out of the way so he could be a little closer to Will from across the smooth mahogany table. “Letting go of your choices, of your power, even temporarily, can also be enjoyable. There is freedom in that release, a sweet peace that you would find yourself engulfed in, wading there, if only for a little while.”

Will moved his plate aside too, conscious of the shift in energy, the opening as Hannibal pushed just that little bit more. Blue eyes stared clear and unwavering at him now, as he felt Hannibal’s mind where before he’d been so closed off. “Into the quiet of the stream, isn’t that right? Amazing what you can see when you look long enough. I think I’m so used to looking now, I don’t even want to stop anymore.” What he saw inside the elegant doctor was a darkness, alluring and heated, one that beckoned him to come nearer.  

“Then don’t stop, Will. In lieu of leaning your head back, and closing your eyes, keep them open. Tread into the stream, alert and aware,” Hannibal suggested, collecting their plates and refilling their wine glasses. He licked his lips, eyes narrowed with mirth, lust, and love, as they stayed on Will the entire time that he spoke. “Think on that, while we partake of our wine by the fire. That, and I still need to give you your Christmas gift.”

Will remembered the envelope in his coat pocket and rose, hiking up his pants a bit, belly full from Hannibal’s delicious cooking. “And I brought something for you, too. I’ll go get it,” he said, jogging out to the foyer closet to retrieve it.

Will entered the living room a moment later, a fire roaring and two glasses of wine waiting on a table beside a dark chocolate leather sofa, antiqued. He took a seat, smiling at the doctor and handing him the plain manila envelope. “I should explain what exactly this is. Maybe a drink first.”

“Thank you, Will. Your gift is in my study,” Hannibal explained and then took the envelope, arching a barely there brow at Will. He set it down, since Will wanted to explain first and have that drink. The doctor smiled, warmly, holding up his glass in invitation for a toast. “Shall we toast to letting go of inhibitions then? Or perhaps, to making choices?”

Will licked his lips, looking meaningfully into the doctor’s eyes. The way the light from the flames danced across his sharp, handsome features made Hannibal look considerably more attractive as well as...something else. He felt drawn like a moth to a flame, unable to extricate himself from his proclivity, and increasingly unwilling to, either. Raising his glass he smiled, shadows dancing over them both. “To having the power to make our own choices, leap into the unknown without regrets.” Leaning forward, Will touched the edge of his glass to Hannibal’s.

Hannibal grinned then, leaning forward as well and then raising the glass to his lips for a sip as his eyes danced with fond adoration and lust. He had never been more proud of Will as in that moment, and he knew it would only grow. The cocoon was nearly ready to open, and release. It wouldn’t be long now, he knew. “A beautiful toast, Will,” he said finally, and set down his drink, picking up the envelope once more. “Shall I open this or would you like to explain first, as you suggested a moment ago?”

Nervous butterflies fluttered in his belly as he questioned his gift for a split second. With a sigh, he sat back, forearm resting on the sofa. “I didn’t have the greatest father. He drank too much, suffered from bad depression, and sometimes would take it out on me. But some of my happiest childhood memories were with him at the piano. He played a lot, really well in fact. You know that little upright I have? That was his. He taught me some, but I didn’t pick it up really. I keep the piano as one echo from my past that brings me a little joy.” Will took a sip of wine and continued. “It’s some sheet music of a song he wrote for me when I was five. I know you play...though it’s something that’s a very...intimate momento. As close as we’ve become, Hannibal...I want you to have it.” He licked his lips, unsure how such a humble gift might be received, though he hoped he could see how much it meant to him.

It was a beautiful gift, Hannibal mused, opening the envelope and looking at the piece. There was a lot to explore there, not just with the music but with the relationship Will had with his father. As such, Hannibal was quite curious. He looked up at his guest - his friend - and smiled, setting the piece down, reverently. “It is truly a gift I shall treasure always, Will, thank you. I wonder… would it be presumptuous of me to ask if, after I give you your gift, I might play this piece for you?” It would be a wonderful exercise on a psychological, romantic, and courteous level.

Will felt his cheeks heat again at the offer. He’d hoped for this of course, even expected it a bit, and yet it still pleased him just to hear the offer. He cracked a smile, lopsided but with a glow coming into his normally stormy eyes. “It would be a pleasure, D-D-mmm Hannibal,” he stammered, feeling the moment called for the intimacy of calling the doctor by his name.

“Will…” Hannibal heard himself say, and then cleared his throat. It wasn’t often, if ever, that Will called him that. He smiled as well, his eyes studying his guest intenently. “Then I shall, but first, come. Let us go into my study so that you might enjoy your gift, hm?”

Will rose, taking his wine glass with him. “Sure. I’m curious what you’ve gotten me,” he answered, feeling the warmth of Hannibal’s eyes on him. He followed him into the doctor’s study, walking around a moment to appreciate the walls of books and collectible art adorning the walls. Everything he displayed was another tile in the mosaic that Will was finding more and more fascinating. Finally he sat down, finishing his wine and setting down the empty glass.

Hannibal clucked his tongue when Will sat, and he gestured for the empath to join him. “Come, Will, close your eyes,” he requested with a grin, clasping his hands together in a neat bundle in front of his suit clad torso. He knew Will would like the gift, he’d gone through a bit of trouble to find the very best, and ventured in stores he’d never find himself in. The doctor loved his theatrics however, and likewise, seeing if his friend would indeed trust him, made it that much sweeter. “If you wouldn’t mind, I will guide you to it, hm?”

Will closed his eyes as Hannibal instructed and smiled. “Well, alright then, I supposed you’re my paddle. Guide me, Doctor,” he said playfully, holding out his hands in front of his body to allow Hannibal to do just that.

Hannibal took a second to admire how beautiful Will looked and then took his hands, leading him over to a large closet, he opened the doors and grasped his waist, walking him just inside. Near his ear, Hannibal rumbled, deep and raspy, “You may open your eyes now, Will.”

A sharp exhale of breath escaped his throat as he felt Hannibal’s voice tremble through his very core. Heat radiated from his body as his eyes fluttered open to adjust to the light. In the closet before him was an antique, collectible fishing rod with a red bow. Will recognized it at once as a rare piece worth undoubtedly at least six thousand dollars. He gasped and took it in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship. “Hannibal...I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe this…thank you,” he said haltingly, still shocked at the present.

“You are welcome, Will,” Hannibal smiled, quite pleased with himself. He touched Will’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “My only hope is that it shall serve you well.”

Will’s long fingers skimmed over the wood lovingly as he held it, and he looked over at Hannibal somewhat wide-eyed. He  _ wanted  _ to embrace him, but instead smiled, a rare, broad, genuine smile. “Wow, Hannibal, god, thank you” he responded, shaking his head again in amazement.

“The pleasure was mine,” Hannibal insisted, utterly awestruck at how beautiful Will was when he truly smiled that way. He’d sketch it later, he knew. For now though, he left him where he stood and went to his desk to pull out a wax sealed envelope, with a ribbon around it. Walking back to Will, he offered it over. “And there’s this. A bit of sentiment from myself to you.”

Will stared in wonder at the pencil drawing, warm washing over his cheeks as he took it in. Detailed, intricate, exquisite, it was a sketch of Achilles and Patroclus, one remicient of the famed art by Nikolai Ge. As he took it all in, he was awed at the skill involved at the detail in their faces. It was clearly Hannibal and Will. His gaze shifted over the doctor’s sharp features and he struggled over what to say. “I’m speechless. This is….this is amazing. Is this truly how you see me?” he asked, voice almost a whisper. 

“Achilles wished that all Greeks would die, so that he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone,” Hannibal said, a bit whimsically as he looked at Will with an interested, canted head. He smiled, just so, and licked his lips. “It is one of many ways in which I see you, yes. I’m pleased you find it to your liking, Will.” Upon seeing Will’s reaction, he decided not to push certain wants further. Not now. “Would you care for another drink and then I shall play your father’s song, if you still wish me to?”

Will averted his gaze, not a little uncomfortable by how intimately the men were becoming. It was a compliment -  a huge one - and he didn’t know how to accept it. “Yes, I’d like that. This is...uhhh...I don’t know what to say. Thank you,” he finally concluded simply.

“ _ Thank you _ is more than sufficient, Will. I assure you,” Hannibal said, with a charming smile and then walked over to procure a whisky for Will and a brandy for himself. “Shall we adjourn to the main room, then? I’ll play for you there.”

The brunet nodded, relieved by the change in atmosphere, and he welcomed the drink at this point. Hannibal’s gaze was so unusual, at once probing yet at the same time obscuring himself somehow. Try as he might he couldn’t see further into the honeyed gold of his eyes, set deep into his exquisite features.”Sounds good, yes,” he replied, following Hannibal into the main room where his piano and the bar were located.

Hannibal walked over to the piano and set down the sheet music as well as his drink. He smiled at Will and then sat down, raising the cover off of the keys. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” he rumbled, and looked at the notes, starting to play with beautiful ease right away.

Will considered sitting beside Hannibal on the piano bench, but it seemed a little too close for his comfort at the moment. Instead, he stood, leaning on the piano with the tumbler of amber fluid in his hands, and closed his eyes as he listened to the beautiful music. The doctor’s skilled, elegant hands danced over the ivory keys so effortlessly even as he read the music on sight only, and he marveled at how perfectly he played it having never seen it before. Will’s dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he let the music wash over him.

Looking up at Will, Hannibal took the opportunity to gaze at him openly, since Will’s eyes were closed, and he swallowed, his throat clicking. He wanted very much for Will to sit next to him, and for the opportunity for an intimacy the doctor had only imagined. All things in good time. For now, he continued to play, his eyes occasionally skimming the paper. He didn’t speak, only played, wanting to savor this moment together.

Will enjoyed it in silence, and when he finally opened his eyes, his gaze landed on the enraptured expression on Hannibal’s face. His first thought was that it was due to the emotion of the music; it made sense to him. He smiled and finally exhaled, taking on last sip of his drink. The brunet nodded as Hannibal finished the piece. “Note for note, exactly as I remember it. It’s perfect, Hannibal.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Hannibal continued, and when he was finished, he smiled at Will once more, wondering what was behind his eyes. For once, he didn’t inquire, as the air was thick with tension, as well as pleasure; it was palpable, and gave him great satisfaction. At the compliment, he canted his head proudly, preening, as the light of the fireplace showed off his aristocratic features beautifully. “Thank you, Will. I hope that I would do it justice. I appreciate being given the honor to bring it back to life for you. Tell me, did it elicit feelings of youth? Perhaps of the bayou with your father as little boy?”

Will sat on the edge of the piano bench then, beside Hannibal, touching the keys gingerly, a look of reflection painting his features. “I don’t remember my mother, but Dad used to tell me when he’d play for her, it was when she was truly happy. For all the troubles in my family, music seemed to be one thing that somehow….made everything okay, even if for a few minutes. When Dad played, he’d get lost in the notes. I can still smell the grass earth, the air thick and wet with humidity, see the bass and redfish on the counter, laid out on newspaper as he’d gut and clean them for dinner.” Will sighed and ran his fingers through the thick curls on his head, smiled sideways over at the doctor. “Simpler times.”

Hannibal’s lips quirked into a genuine smile at that, his eyes very warm as he leaned a little closer towards Will. It was done in a way that could have been seen as accidental or uncalculated, but he knew that Will knew better than that, or so he wanted to think. He’d been sending signals, though not overly overt. It was a dance, a courtship, in his mind, and one he was very patient with, when proceeding. The rewards would be rich, and bear a bountiful harvest, should it all go according to plan. As Will had spoken, the doctor had visualized everything, every sound, word, and nuance, painting it in his vast palace, for future use. “Do you feel as though you may never have those times again, Will? Or have you grown into someone who needs something more? When life becomes maddeningly polite, what resounds in the bone arena of your mind?”

Will removed his glasses and rubbed a hand over his face. He turned to look more directly at Hannibal, and for the first time thought he saw a hint of something there, behind twin blood red moon-like eyes. Haunting but softer. “I don’t know what I think or feel anymore, Hannibal. Everything has become so tangled, the noise, the din, it just reverberates off my skull inside like an empty bathroom. Just hollow echoes. Maybe…” he lifted his own gaze to the doctor’s then, hopefully. “Maybe you can help me.”

“I will be your paddle, Will, as I’ve said. I’ll guide you through the murky waters of uncertainty, and help you come ashore,” Hannibal offered, licking his lips thoughtfully as he looked directly into striking, yet stormy sea blues. Still, in this moment, he saw something else there, and that, combined with Will’s pulse, and his body language, was enough to give him even more hope. They were just alike, he knew, tethered and bound, in unescapable ways.

Will nodded, feeling suddenly so shy and exposed before the older man. “I’m very lucky then, I suppose, or I should feel lucky anyway, right?” He cleared his throat and rose awkwardly, smoothing down his trousers. He smiled. “The fishing rod...that’s the most generous gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you again Hannibal. I should...I should be going, I think,” he said, unable to conceal the blush over his cheek. It was too much, too soon, his senses felt overwhelmed at all. Above all else, it was the intimacy of the moment, hanging thick in the air between them, that made him most uncomfortable.

“Unfortunate for me then,” Hannibal said, standing up as well, closing the lid on the piano. He adjusted his tie, and nodded, the disappointment clear on his face but not overly so. It was obvious Will was running, but was it from him, or the tension? Likely it was from himself. “I thank you for the gift you’ve given me, likewise, and most of all, for your company. Let me grab your pole and I’ll see you out, hm?”

Will’s eyes snapped up in surprise at the double entendre - intentional or not - and it actually helped diffuse his discomfort a bit. He chuckled dryly, hands in his pockets as he followed Hannibal out. “Yes well, alright then. And you’re welcome. Thank you for the invite...it was good.” He pulled out his phone and called a ride; less than a minute away, mercifully.

Pole in hand, Hannibal handed it over to Will, along with the drawing he’d made for him. He smiled, and touched his shoulder once, as he had before, but somehow it had a different meaning, or feel to it. “You’re quite welcome. Do be careful. It is rather nasty out. I’ll….see you for therapy soon then, yes? Or before, should you care to join me for dinner again. Merry Christmas, Will.”

Will turned, keenly aware of Hannibal’s hand on him. He looked up at the doctor through lowered lashes. “I...I...uhm, yes. Sure you will. Merry Christmas, Doctor,” Will said, pulling his jacket tighter around himself before walking down the steps to the car. Calling Hannibal “doctor” was all he had in that moment, one small partition to place between them, give him space to breathe.

The uber ride back to Wolf Trap left Will alone with his thoughts too long. He’d shared something very personal with Hannibal tonight, and he’d seemed pleased. Was Will imagining the looks he gave him or the way he phrased things, how close he stood to him sometimes?

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed. Will tried his best to forget about the looks exchanged that night, the heaviness in the air, chalking it up to his always overactive imagination. Hannibal had not called, not reached out to him, and he had to admit, it stung, given the intimacy of the gifts they’d exchanged. Perhaps he was waiting for the younger man to approach him again, but perhaps it had been nothing after all. 

His attention shifted to his now-colleague, and former psychotherapist, Alana Bloom. The pretty brunette had brought him lunch at work, making increasingly more obvious efforts to get him to notice her in a “friendly” capacity. He really wasn’t attracted to her per-se, but he had to admit he enjoyed her attention. It gave him a little sense of validation, maybe convinced him that he wasn’t entirely the unkempt hermit who hated looking people in the eyes, and spent his nights on the floor with his dogs fixing boat engines and fashioning fishing lures to pass the time. Anything to avoid thoughts of those penetrative amber eyes and that husky, warm lisp.

There was one hell of a winter storm afoot the night he was startled from his peaceful reverie by a noise coming from the chimney. He was carefully tying together a lure, trying to stop the intrusive thoughts invading his mind about the case he was working on at present. Graphic death in a theater, a musician in an orchestra, the image of the man strung up like a human cello bleeding hot behind his eyes, and as long, deft fingers strung the fly, the sound grew louder and louder.

It was a constant scratching, nails against the brick, like something trying to get in. The more he tried to ignore it, the louder the sound became, almost like his brain wouldn’t allow him to shut it out. The tapping and clawing grew deafening, and finally he rose, walking outside to see if he could locate the source. Nothing. No animals foolish enough to be out in the snow like this, the way it came down like a heavy blanket forcing all objects on earth down into its sleepy, cold embrace.

Will took a hammer right to his fireplace wall. Like a madman, he hacked away at the bricks, plaster and stone splintering and falling away in great chunks. And then he heard a small voice behind him.

“What kind of animal was it?”

He’d left the door open, and in walked Alana. She was the last person he expected here tonight, but there she stood, cheeks flushed from the cold, bundled in her coat, staring at him and the hole above the mantle like he was out of his mind. He rubbed a hand over his face and dropped the hammer against the wall, swallowing hard. “I-I-I don’t know. Raccoon, maybe?” One look in her eyes and they both knew there was no raccoon, no animal. Instead of seeing his former therapist there, though, all he saw was her.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I’ve been worried about you, Will. And...and Hannibal asked me to check on you. He hasn’t heard from you and asked me how you were. You’ve been distant, with all of us, you know. I’m afraid it’s the case and, well, and I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,” she explained, blushing. He wondered how she was able to be so coy, so innocent and yet somehow so blameless if anyone had been spying, trying to accuse her of flirting. But Will knew, could see that’s what it was. Flirting with danger, the way he knew she saw him. He drew nearer to her and smiled.

“You’ve avoided being alone with me for a long time. I wonder why that is. Or are you suddenly making house calls now, Doctor?” Will looked down at her, close enough now that he could feel her nearly vibrate. Though she tried to hide it, he could feel the tension rolling off the petite woman in shallow puffs of breath.

She looked up at him through her lashes, blue eyes much darker now. “I was just on my way home. And you’re no longer my patient, you know,” she said. A telling caveat, a final defense of her transparency. Needless justification. Will saw through it.

“I’m not,” he whispered, before pulling her close and pressing his lips against hers. Like silk, she melted against him, and all too easily he took her in his arms, her small frame trembling for moments as they kissed. But just as suddenly, there she was, pushing him away. She leaned her forehead against his, breathless.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Won’t.”

“You have to stop thinking so much, Alana…”

She pulled away then, muttering things like “It wouldn’t be right,” “I’m not good for you, Will,” “We just can’t.” Excuses. He tried to hold on to the moment of warmth and intimacy, the first moment since that evening at Hannibal’s where he hadn’t felt that aching emptiness, that loneliness burning him alive, the feeling of death and decay festering behind his ribs. He knew. He always knew. Of course Alana Bloom didn’t want him. No one did. Who would? He was broken inside. A man who could empathize with those most sick, twisted, amoral minds mankind had wrought on this earth.

He stopped listening at a point and saw her to the door, bidding her to travel safe, empty pleasantries that voided the actions that had only moments prior occurred. And yet again, he was alone.

The silence was deafening. He couldn’t bear it, the nothingness that reverberated in his head like static. And he decided he knew what he had to do.  

An hour and a half went by like a blur, and here he was, knocking at Doctor Lecter’s door.

Hannibal had just seen someone out, the door to his back door still ajar as he went to the front and opened it up. He looked at Will, a bit shocked but quite pleased that he had happened by. “Will...come in.”

Will stepped into the foyer brusquely, still lost in his mind over all that had transpired, and not even sure what he’d say, until he simply blurted it out as he pulled off his coat and tossed it to a chair. “Well, I kissed Alana Bloom,” the words spilled from his lips anxiously, full of frustration as he stomped the snow from his boots and strode right through the living room and into the kitchen. The smell of something delicious wafted through the air - not a surprise given the talented chef Hannibal was - but what did come as a surprise was seeing the back door ajar.

A surge of jealousy burned hot through Hannibal’s veins at the confession, but it hardly showed on his face. He closed the door behind Will, and walked into the kitchen, right up to him. “And you drove for hours in the snow to come tell me. It must have been a rather impacting kiss,” he said, pulling the dessert he’d been making from the oven, setting it out to let it cool before he pulled down two dishes. Did Will come to rub it in his face? Was he oblivious even still? It seemed so, and the doctor’s mind ran rampant with ideas, the beast within his ribcage howling and stirring. Be that as it was, he walked over to close the backdoor, coming right back to finish his task and await the explanation.

“Did you have a guest?” Will asked absently, avoiding the question. Did he detect hostility, or was that his imagination too? And was it towards him or Alana? He picked a piece of cheese off a board on the counter and ate it slowly, masticating it with thoughtfulness.

“He had to leave, called away, before dessert,” Hannibal explained, not missing the avoidance from Will, nor the way his mouth and jaw shifted with each beautiful bite. “This is lucky for you, and myself, as I’ve made enough for two.” He dolled out the servings, and then offered a plate over to Will, not waiting for him to say yes or no.

Will eagerly took the delicious looking dessert. He was hungry now, and after savoring the first bite, he finally relaxed a little more. Moaning a little around the food, he sighed. “I wanted to kiss her from the first moment I met her. But she stopped it, said...well, said I wouldn’t be good for her nor she for me.” he raised his eyes to Hannibal to gauge his reaction. “She knows something’s off...with me,” he concluded with a sadness around his mouth.

Hannibal felt many things at once, intrigue, rage, jealousy, arousal, it was a lot to process for most but he was in his element. “What does she think is off with you, Will? What has lead her to such assumptions? Do you concur with her assessment?” he asked and took a bite of his own dessert, full lips wrapping around the fork as he eyed Will. It was sensual, and yet innocent all at once. “Would you be good for her?”

Will’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the eye contact, the way the handsome doctor ate, how thoroughly he engulfed the fork between his plush lips, and it sent the same heat he’d felt that night on Christmas eve all over again. It was utterly different from what he’d felt with Alana, and that felt like nothing compared to this. “Am I? No. I’m a professional curiosity to her. She sees me as a broken pony I think, too unstable, not  _ dating material _ ,” he sighed with a huff, setting down his fork to make air quotes with his fingers.

“She lets that curiosity blind her to what she truly desires, which is you,” Hannibal offered, the words tasting bitter in his mouth, like spoiled meat. It wouldn’t do, but the question was, what was to be done about it? He had ideas, as he always did. Taking another bite, he licked his lips, making sure to do so a bit slowly, before sipping his dessert wine. He brought down another glass and set it on the counter as they stood there. “Would you like some wine to accompany your dessert, Will?”

The younger man was unable to cease his vision’s trajectory, zeroed in as he was on the sensual curve of Hannibal’s mouth. He felt himself drift off, and a dizzying rush of blood left his skull until he realized he was being asked a question. “Yeah...yes, thank you, Hannibal. Anything is fine, I’m sure, knowing what I usually drink.”

Hannibal poured him the wine, a brow lifting. He slid it over to Will and then leaned on the counter, minding the food and drink. Muscles rippled under his fine shirt, a bit of chest hair showing through the top two undone buttons as he smiled. “Where did you go just now, Will? Your body was present but your mind was not.”

Will found himself licking his own lips, eyes drifting down Hannibal’s chest as thoughts began invading his mind, and he couldn’t be sure if they were the doctor’s or his own. He envisioned the Lithuanian stripping him nude and taking him right over the pristine stainless steel counter, picking him up and driving into him relentlessly. He blushed even harder, to the tip of his ears, and looked away, shaking his head and laughing in an uncharacteristic display. He rarely expressed joy anymore, not with the terrible things that usually pervaded his mind. “I...uhh...you know, I was here. I’ve never left. Where would I even go?” he replied, daring to meet Hannibal’s eyes with a slight smirk still on his face. 

The blush was noticed, as was the display, and every shift in Will’s body language. Was he aroused? Hannibal flared his nostrils in an attempt to see, but the smell of the food and wine made it harder without getting closer to his groin, which wouldn’t happen at the moment. It wasn’t sex that drove him anyway, but he had to admit, the thought of Will writhing on the bed under him as he was feasted on, delighted the good doctor to no one. With a smile, he nodded, and sipped his wine. “I meant mentally speaking, but as long as you stay with me, then I shant probe any further. Not tonight at least.”

Will’s lips quirked at the entendre, and he wondered if it was deliberate. But Hannibal was a….well, working partner, sometime therapist, and his friend. His  _ friend _ . Will Graham didn’t have too many of those, and the fact that he did in fact drive an hour and a half in a blizzard really did say a little something about how he valued his confidants. “That’s  _ good _ ,” he answered, stressing the last half of the statement, and he took the glass gratefully, sniffing before sipping. He really had no idea what the point was, but he’d seen people do it, and he supposed it was what people did before drinking wine. When he drank it was typically only to one end - stop all the feeling. Hannibal consumed alcohol differently though, and the high quality of the wine called for a slower hand. Tipping his head back, he let the dry, crisp fluid dance across his palate, and he closed his eyes briefly. After a moment, he opened his eyes to see the doctor once again staring. “I don’t know what I’m tasting, but it’s woodsy, like cherries and oak? Dark. Rich.”

Entranced as always, Hannibal licked his lips, tasting the residual wine there, but also due to the response from Will. He was finished with his dessert, and now they focused on each other, as well as the wine. “Your tastes are correct,” he said, smooth and raspy all at once, his eyes penetrating stormy hues, “It is a Cabernet Sauvignon, 2010 Conterno Fantino Barolo Sori Ginestra. It’s rich, yes, fruity, and with a persistent bouquet of rose petals, brushwood and berries. A luscious, full-bodied wine, that I feel is quite austere on the palate. I’m pleased you like it.”

The way words took shape, curling around his tongue and past his lips struck Will somewhere low in his belly, and he bit back a sound at “luscious”. It came out as a small whimper, which he attempted to conceal with a cough. His cheeks bloomed pink, and he chuckled, pulling back the glass to examine it. “Whatever all that means, it’s delicious. Seems to go right to my head which is strange. I should eat some more of this dessert,” he rambled a bit nervously, trying to recover his composure, and quickly took a bite of food. Best to have something in his mouth and stop him from blurting something impulsive out. .  

“As you wish,” Hannibal rumbled, his tone deeper, and lower, as he, once more, noticed the shift in his friend, as well as his coloring. It was all too enticing really, but he behaved himself. For now at least. It was the whimper that Will had tried to hide that really got the doctor’s blood plumping, and he found himself licking his lips again, his eyes never faltering from the other. “Perhaps you would enjoy it more by the fire, in my sitting room, hm? It’s a bit more comfortable, and since the wine is going to your head, I would not want to risk you losing your footing.”

Will agreed. As was typical, Hannibal seemed to know best. “Yes, that’s a good idea,” he agreed. The brunet took the last bite of his dessert, and left the plate in the kitchen, but brought his wine glass with him, following Hannibal into the sitting room. 

The fire roared beautifully and cast the room in a golden glow, and he stood before it, setting the glass on the mantle. He leaned against it for a moment to balance himself and dared to raised his gaze to the handsome doctor. 

Hannibal decided not to worry about the plates for now, which was unusual, but he’d much rather focus on his guest. It would be….rude, not to, afterall. Still, he’d also brought his wine, as well as the bottle, which he set down. Still holding his glass, he took a sip, and then set it near Will’s, walking closer, slowly; he stopped when he was about two feet from his friend. “You’re contemplating secrets by the light of the fire, Will. What dances behind your eyes? Something, perhaps, scratching there, trying to get out? Will you let it?”

Will’s lips parted softly as he looked up at the doctor. Rather than argue, he sighed deeply, his gaze falling to Hannibal’s mouth. “I...I don’t know. Well, maybe I do but I’m afraid to admit it,” he finally said, his voice faltering at the end as he held that eye contact longer than he ever had before.

Hannibal inched forward again, with the grace of a regal cat, his fingers skimming over the pristine mantel before rolling his sleeves up to the elbows. He quite enjoyed the eye contact, his own fierce amber hues locked onto beautiful hues. “What do you fear, Will?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble while he looked at Will’s mouth and back up again. “Me? Yourself? Or... _ us _ and what we could be?”

A soft gasp passed Will’s lips as the heat from Hannibal rolled over him in waves. This couldn’t be. He’d denied it so long, thought it was his imagination, but now... _ us _ ? “I’m not sure where I end and you begin, Hannibal. I’m not sure if I’m simply projecting on you, even now,” he said quietly, hesitantly. Looking back into Hannibal’s eyes was like looking into dark, deep wells, and he was most fascinated and frightened by what he felt. His heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped bird beating itself on the bars.

“Your empathy helps you to see into the hearts and minds of others, but your forts can help you differentiate between the fiction and the reality,” Hannibal murmured, a mere few inches from Will now. He raised his hand and cupped Will’s jaw, leaning close but not touching beyond that. “You’ve allowed me beyond those forts to a degree, permitting my intrusiveness, and I wonder, will you now, or will you let this love go to waste?”

Shaky breath came out, the  _ forts _ Hannibal so easily saw crumbling like an avalanche of good intentions. The tips of his fingers burned his skin, but instead of shying away, he leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously near the doctors, stormy blue eyes fixed on the plush, full mouth. “I…” he whispered, before impulsively leaning forward and clumsily pressing his sealed lips against Hannibal’s.

That was all it took and with a silent, approving inhale if breath, Hannibal slid his other hand to the small of Will’s back pulling him closer still. He parted his lips a fraction, jutting his tongue out to trace the seam of the other’s mouth in encouragement to open them. It was beautiful and Will tasted just as succulent as the doctor had speculated. A throaty, growling ‘Mm’ slipped from his broad chest.

Will felt himself melt ever so slightly into the touch, moaning when he felt his tongue. A warm bolt of pleasure rose between his legs and shocked him, and he pulled back, cheeks bright pink. He couldn’t bring himself to look Hannibal in the eye then. What the hell was he doing? “This isn’t...I should go,” he huffed, turning quickly, embarrassment covering his features. He quickly rushed out of the room to the foyer to look for his coat. He was mortified. Had the wine gotten to him that much?

“Will….” Hannibal felt his heart drop. He contemplated going after him then, popping a needle into his veins and subduing him, eating that heart to make amends for the one Will just ripped out, but no, the world was a far better place with Will Graham in it. So he simply stayed put, licking his lips to taste the residual that the profiler had left there. Honestly though, he wasn’t entirely surprised. It would just take a bit more finesse and patience than he’d anticipated.

The brunet could feel tears of shame burning his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. He turned to the door, casting an apologetic look at Hannibal’s feet, since the doctor had walked out of the sitting room to see him off after all. “I can call, or...or something, I’m sorry, I’m very sorry, I just….goodbye,” he mumbled, and hastily rushed off. He couldn’t bear to see the doctor look at him, and what would he even think of Will doing something so brash and offensive? He’d made the same mistake twice in one day, first kissing Alana and then Hannibal, his only friend and confidant.

And Hannibal hadn’t pulled away, like Alana had, this time it had been Will who’d done the rejecting. Once Will was long gone, Hannibal went to his study, after cleaning up. He sat down at his desk, pursing his lips as he pressed the point of his pencil against his finger. Lost in thought, he sat for a good half hour, and then finally went to bed. Tomorrow was another day.

***

Will called in sick, every day of the following week. Alana was calling, Jack was calling, he let them all go to voicemail. He spent the majority of the time half way through one bottle or the next of Jack Daniels. It was stupid, why he’d gotten so flustered and pushed himself on people….it wasn’t like him at all, and he felt foolish and embarrassed.

Hannibal kept busy, as he’d heard wind of another budding case. One that involved a man who thought himself to be a beast. Fitting and beautiful, and of course he knew precisely who it was. Nonetheless, there was work to be done.

***

Will was nearly blackout drunk when the banging on his door grew to be too loud to dismiss anymore. He would’ve yet ignored it except every dog in his house was howling and scratching, making a complete racket, and so he dragged himself to open it. Predictably, it was Alana. 

“You know, I realize we shared that one kiss, but there’s really only so much resistance a girl can put up. Answering the door in your underwear after not bathing for a week is perhaps more than I can handle, Will,” she said dryly as she pushed past him and walked in. He looked away and grumbled incoherently.

“I had brothers. I’ve seen it all. Go get in the shower, Will. I’ll take the dogs out. Buster’s about to piss all over your floor,” Alana said.

Will grunted and sighed, knowing the dogs really did need to go out, and got in the shower. The shock of cold water actually felt damn good, and after standing under the spray and scrubbing himself down, he started to feel clearer than he had in days. When he finally emerged dressed in clean clothes, the smell of fresh brewed coffee woke him even more.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, handsome,” Alana grinned, sitting at his kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee, a second sitting opposite her.

“Thanks, Alana,” Will answered with a snort and eye roll, taking a big swallow of the soothing nectar.

“Will, we can’t just stop talking because we kissed and I turned you down. You have to know why I said no...I’m worried about you, you know?”

“I’m fine. I just needed time to sort out the shit between my ears is all.”

“No, no, come on now. I’ve been thinking about it, about you. I’d like...I’d like to maybe try again. No pressure, no labels or expectations. I think you know I’m attracted to you, and I’d hazard a wild guess you like me, eh?” she said, dipping her chin to seek his gaze with a smile curling her lips.

Will met her gaze. “Are you asking me on a date, Doctor Bloom?” he asked with a small smirk.

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“Well, I don’t know how much fun I’ll be, but...yes.”

Alana had a warm, caring look on her face. “Well, I’ll have you know I expect you to take me somewhere nice. We’re not having dinner amongst all this dog hair,” she said.

“I know a hot crime scene we could have a cup of coffee at,” he joked, laughing dryly.

Alana’s laugh rang out in the small, sparsely furnished house. “Was that a joke, Will? You’re doing better already.”

The two finished their coffee, the air cleared considerably between them as they shared stories and laughed like old friends. And while there wasn’t the same tension between them Will had felt with Hannibal, somehow he thought this would be good for him. As much as he hated socializing, he was comfortable with Alana, and as few friends as he made, that was a priceless commodity in his life.

***

The date had gone surprisingly well. They went to a nice restaurant for dinner - Alana decided Will might be more comfortable with people around, to begin with, and he was - and then went to a movie together. It was a comedy, something truly stupid and brainless that allowed Will to escape the darkness inside his mind for a night. They ended it with a friendly hug and no more, but Will was happy. On the second date, they ended up making out like a couple of teenagers in his car, and while it still didn’t stir up much in the way of real passion, Will felt relaxed around Alana again, and he liked the way she looked at him, the way her eyes got a little moony around him.

Another case had materialized, usually enough to put Will off his good mood, but he was still riding the high of emotions when he came to the next crime scene. He was a little thrown off when Jack mentioned he’d called Hannibal to consult, but he felt too good. Nothing could spoil this, even if it would make him a little less effective at his job, Alana had convinced him he needed to take care of himself and allow himself to be happy for once.

He was clearly not at the top of his game though he tried to look serious, he couldn't stop smiling. Even when he saw the handsome and austere doctor.

“Good morning Doctor Lecter,” he greeted the man with a smile, handing him a cup of coffee as the cold winter air bit at their cheeks.

Hannibal had on a ridiculous looking hat, but he was nonetheless handsome, and it served to protect him from the cold. He took the cup and tipped his head in thanks, watching Will curiously. “Good morning, Will,” he said, smiling ever so slightly before he pursed his lips to blow on the coffee, though it wasn’t long before he could take a sip. “I must say it is refreshing to see you so chipper. I suspect things are going much better for you than the last time we saw one another?”

Will grinned and looked down. “Well, I guess even freaks like me can find happiness once in awhile. So, what’s the case?” he said, trying to change the subject. He didn’t want to jinx anything by talking about things too much. Shoving one hand in his pocket, he wondered if Hannibal would take the hint.

The doctor definitely knew what Will was trying to do, and since there were others on the way over, he merely added, as he raised his cup to sip from it again, smirking slightly, “Do send Doctor Bloom my best, Will, and let her know that I wish her the very best with  _ all _ the patients she sees, be they at her office, or...any  _ other _ place.”  

Will’s head snapped to the side immediately at the thinly veiled words. Was he jealous? And was it aimed at Will himself or at Alana? It was the smallest crack in the elegant doctor’s pristine veneer, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, and Brian Zeller’s excited voice broke his concentration.

“Severance of the jugular and carotid, esophagus destroyed. The bite just about beheaded him,” the dark haired man said, looking from Will and Hannibal to Jack, who strolled up, rubbing his gloved hands together to warm up.

“Snowed all night. You sure there were no tracks?” Will asked, looking around and squinting.

Hannibal looked at Will then, ever proud. “You believe as though if it were a beast, it would have drug it off, yes? While that is true, it could have very likely been a rabid animal, killing at random with no intention to devour,” he said, finishing his coffee. “Just as humans do the very same, if they are provoked to do so.”

“May have been an animal, may not have been. Whatever it was, it wasn’t afraid of humans. Or it isn’t anymore,” Jack said solemnly.

“He is going to kill again, and he is getting better at it,” Hannibal said, watching Will mostly, from his periphery. “Whoever it is, or whatever, is not denying its natural instincts, he’s evolving them.”


	3. Chapter 3

Winter on the East coast was absolutely ridiculous, and as Will drove yet again to Hannibal’s house, he cursed the ice and snow. It was his second night of no sleep, and rather than toss and turn yet again, he decided to pay the doctor a visit. Now that he was dating Alana, it would be good to clear the air in private. 

He trudged up the steps and rapped on the door. After about a minute, he began to wonder if Hannibal was even home, though the Bentley was out front. He knocked again. A moment later and Hannibal answered, dressed in a coal black three piece suit, maroon undershirt with a matching paisley tie and pocket square - or he would have been. The jacket was removed, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a strand of hair hung loosely in the doctor’s eyes. In his hand was a glass of red wine, as soft classical music played in the background.

Looking at Will, Hannibal let his face show surprise, just in the most minute way, as he looked back over his shoulder, and then at Will once more. “Will,” he began, as a voice called out to Hannibal, asking who it was. “Just a moment,” he said, and then licked his lips. .”I apologize, I wasn’t expecting you and I’m afraid you’ve caught me in a rather… intimate setting, however, please, come in. My home is always open to friends,” he added, standing aside so Will could come in, as the young man with Hannibal watched from back a ways.

Will gaped at Hannibal. He’d not seen him this ”comfortable” since their Christmas Eve dinner, and his shocked was only multiplied when he looked past him. There on his couch sat a very disheveled young man, slightly younger than Will - perhaps more than slightly - his shirt askew, hair tousled and bright pink cheeks. Both men had wet, swollen lips, and it was obvious to anyone what he’d interrupted.

Something shifted in Will, something he had not at all anticipated. Red behind his eyes, hot, red blood. Jealous rage, the heat of a kind of anger he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He could feel the life force in his veins thrumming alive as he struggled to maintain control of himself and became light headed from the effort. “Did I interrupt?” was all he could choke out, barely able to take a breath for his fury.

Hannibal sensed something in Will, and he could all but see it in his eyes. That beautiful darkness. Ah yes, perfect. At that, the doctor lead Will in, closing the door behind him. “Nothing that cannot be resumed after we’ve spoken,” he said, with a pleased, slight smile on his lips. “But forgive me, where are my manners?” he said, his voice smooth and husky, rough from the makeout session. Hannibal gestured for his date to join, and he was right at the handsome older man’s side, clinging to his arm like a little vicious koala. “Will, this is Randall Tier, Randall, darling, this is Will. A colleague and good friend of mine.”

"Nice to… meet you,” Randall said, sizing Will up. He was quite the twinky-looking young man, but there was darkness behind his eyes as well, and he looked at Will like he was a threat that quickly needed to be erased, or ripped apart.

Will was barely clinging to civility, and he was never any good at bullshitting. If he were a betting man, he’d bet someone would be leaving Hannibal’s residence tonight in a body bag, and it was not going to be him. “I wish I could say the same. So you’re hiring whores now, Hannibal? I’m surprised. With your money, you could afford better than this, I’d assume.” he spat the words out like razor blades, staring the shrimpy boy down. There was something there that almost made his heart stop though. Something...different. His head was clouded with anger but even still, he could almost smell it.

Hannibal canted his head at Tier, and then Will, quite pleased, if he had to say so to himself. “He is not paid to be here, Will, I assure you,” Hannibal said, but no sooner than he’d said so, Randall grabbed Hannibal’s face and shoved his tongue down his throat, growling and biting at his lips. He eyed Will from the side as he kissed him, basically claiming the elegant, and yet dangerous doctor without saying a word. The boy didn’t talk much, but most animals like himself didn’t need to. They had instinct, action, and primal impulses that spoke for them.

Light flashed before his eyes, and he clearly saw Randall as an animal, ripping out the throat of that couple in the woods, tearing apart the truck driver. As clear as day he could see it was him. This piece of shit didn’t deserve intimacy. He deserved to be ripped open the way he did his victims.

Before his mind could register what his body was doing, he’d pulled a small knife from his belt and with a roar, he embedded it in the side of the creature’s neck. He wasn’t human anymore; in Will’s eyes it was a twisted, hideous beast with the teeth of a mountain lion, yellowed, covered in the blood of his prey. But Will Graham was no one’s prey. His entire body was on fire, alive, pulsing, and he screamed as he pulled the weapon out, the hot spray of blood from his carotid showering him.

Randall looked into Hannibal’s eyes as his body began to fade, and he attempted to hold onto him, but Hannibal stepped back, moving his hands as though he was merely a pawn in his proverbial game of chess. Vile waste. The doctor didn’t focus on him, and instead watched every move Will made. He had never been prouder - or more aroused - than he was in this moment, and when the boy fell the ground, dead as a doornail, Hannibal turned all the way to his friend, removing a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the dots of blood from his own face. He looked at the body and then back at Will. “Congratulations on the work you did on him. I have to say, I admire it immensely, Will,” he said, licking his lips as he stepped closer to the dangerous beast in front of him. The lamb had become a lion. “Tell me, how do you feel?”

Will gasped, staggering backwards and looking at the body before him. His eyes rose to look into Hannibal’s. He barely noticed that he was covered in Randall’s blood. “Powerful. He...he is the one who killed those people. You knew. You...knew? Did you...how did you know I would come?” The thoughts seeped in, consuming him. He knew what he’d done was against the law he was supposed to uphold and yet, he was happy. He was more than happy. He had never felt more alive in his life.

Hannibal stepped closer, over the body of what was his date only minutes prior, and held Will’s jaw, his thumb resting on his cheekbone as he gazed at Will, from eyes to lips, then back again. “I can feed the caterpillar, I can whisper through the chrysalis, but what hatches follows its own nature and is beyond me,” he smiled, speaking in reverent tones, awestruck as his senses were overtaken with everything Will Graham. “I knew you’d come, or suspected as much, because Doctor Bloom told me of the troubles you’ve had sleeping.”

Will looked up at Hannibal through dark lashes, and the feeling could only be described as intoxicating. He saw something there, behind the shadows, and it caught him by surprise. “You’re not horrified. You think it’s beautiful,” he whispered, feeling a connection between them like a live wire wrapping itself around his soul and embedding there.

“Death can be just as beautiful as life,” Hannibal murmured, stroking Will’s cheek with the pad of his thumb as he felt his pulse below his ear with his finger. With a lick of his lips, he said nothing else, just basking in the ambiance of what had just occurred in his home. Already, there was a plan in place, in his mind, or a couple, actually, to get them out of the situation.

Will’s lips parted as the realization of what he’d done began to sink in. He closed his eyes and turned his cheek slowly, forcing more of Hannibal’s palm over his skin. He could feel the blood drying sticky, and the scent of death permeated the air. With a sigh he looked back down at the body on the floor, lifeless, limp, the pool of blood still creeping outward. “I won’t get off of this. Jack will see this and know it wasn’t self-defense. The wounds are vicious. I attacked him, tore him open like an animal. I’ll lose everything.” His voice was wooden, stilted as he began to dread what his future bore just because of his outburst of overpowering emotion and rage.

The doctor thumbed over Will’s cheek, aching to taste his lips but now clearly wasn’t the time. A part of he ached, having hoped this might be the becoming he wanted for Will. Be that as it may, no one would be looking for Randall tonight, no one would suspect a thing until long after, but Will was right. “You think they would kick up a fuss over killing a killer? I think not, Will, but we could leave tonight, if you wish. Take the dogs, and leave a note for Alana. It would almost be polite.”

Will couldn’t take his eyes of Tier’s corpse. “I don’t know what to do. I just...I don’t,” Will said, repeating himself, his voice going up a notch in his growing anxiety. Enormous, damp blue eyes looked into Hannibal’s, a quiet plea lingering there. “What should I do?”

“I will help you Will, since you asked me to,” Hannibal said, looking at Will with concerned appearing eyes. “I can help you hide what you have done, should you not wish to leave with me. I’ll keep your secret.” He stroked Will’s cheek again, and sighed. “We have to hide the body, and rid my home of any evidence.”

Truthfully the thought of  _ leaving with _ Hannibal was appealing, but he couldn’t get over the feeling of obligation, not to mention if he and Hannibal suddenly disappeared, an instant manhunt for them would almost be guaranteed. Hiding the body and remaining in plain sight seemed the wiser course of action, and while he nodded, part of him wondered if he had just truly lost his mind now. He looked into Hannibal’s eyes, probably the longest he ever had, and placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t know how I can ask you to do that,” he whispered meaningfully.

Hannibal felt his heart race at the feel of Will actually making the initiative with the touch. It was warm, and significant. An embrace. Acceptance. At least to some degree. “I am your friend, Will. Let me help you now.”

Will lowered his head in thought and took a deep breath. He knew he’d owe Hannibal something after this, but he had little choice, his options were slim. And would it really be so terrible to put his trust in this man? After the beautiful moments they’d exchanged over the holidays, and countless conversations in his office, in his home, they’d grown closer and closer. Will trusted next to no one. He took the leap. “Yes, Hannibal. I need you...I need your help. Please?” he asked, a slight lilt at the end, eyebrows raised and eye contact made in guileless innocence.

Hannibal nodded, slightly, smiling. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked at Will intensely, reverently. “I’ll help you, Will. Of course.” Yes, acceptance. It was beautiful. Not wanting to waste any time, he got to work, and some time later, they had moved, and hidden the body. Actually, dissolved it, in the woods, with lye. Dusting his hands off, he grinned. “They shan’t be finding him now.”

Will worked in relative silence alongside Hannibal, once they returned from the woods, and before long the house was spotless. He was amazed at Hannibal’s skill and resourcefulness, his calm logic around the process. Looking around, one would never know what had happened. “And just like that, every trace, gone. Guess it pays to know how crime scenes are investigated. Even if they came in, they’d not find a thing,” he said. He felt oddly calm and at peace with himself, and he hoped that feeling would not abandon him in any fit of conscience.

“That bit does come quite in handy,” Hannibal nodded, and walked over to clap a gentle hand on Will’s shoulder, coming up behind him. “Would you care for another drink?” he asked, his voice hot and gravelly against his ear. He wondered how Will would react in time. Would he go to Uncle Jack? Would be betray him? Fate and circumstance. All would be revealed eventually, and Hannibal had a plan for any outcome. He always did.

Will wiped a hand over his face, realizing the tightness in his shoulders was pretty bad now. Coming down from the adrenaline of the events of the past several hours hit him like a ton of bricks. “I could use a drink, actually, thanks,” he sighed, sitting down on the sofa and leaning back to stretch out. “Everything hurts.”

“I can give you something for the pain, though that will mean I cannot give you a drink, or perhaps, just a small one,” Hannibal said, standing in front of Will, eyeing him like he were a fine meal waiting to be savored. “Perhaps you should stay here tonight, as it is quite late. I promise to behave myself,” he winked.

Will looked up at Hannibal and choked back a laugh. It was humorous- almost comical - for the older man to be concerned with propriety after what had happened. The laughter remained silent though, just dancing behind his eyes. “Just the drink will be fine, and thanks.”

It was the reaction Hannibal wanted. To lighten Will’s mood, take his mind off of any chance of remorse. He poured Will a whiskey, and then a brandy for himself, walking back over to sit with him on the sofa. “Here we are,” he said and then licked his lips after a sip. “What do you think you will see behind closed eyes now, Will?”

“Black blood. Fire. Beauty. Terror...though it’s not me who’s afraid, anymore.” Will took a thoughtful sip and rested the glass on his knee, legs spread comfortably as he leaned back. His eyes followed the gentle slosh of dark fluid in its container and he began speaking his thoughts aloud, as though it were obvious to anyone where his mind was going. The continuation of an internal conversation made external. “Even this drink...Everything neatly contained, like the human form before it loses its own structure. Shattered on the ground, life pouring out, somehow is its own art. I’ve come to realize there are very few who see it the way I do. The way I have been seeing things.” He lifted his gaze evenly to Hannibal’s. “How do you see it?”

Hannibal gazed at Will, utterly enchanted and awestruck. What he finally said, was mouthed. Just one word.  _ ‘Beautiful.’ _ Then he took a pause, licking his lips, always carefully considering his words before saying them. He couldn’t tell him that he felt the same, not yet. So he danced around it, in riddles, as he often did, just after taking a sip of his Brandy. “God kills because he feels powerful in doing so. He shatters the hearts and lives of those he was said to have created in love. It is a gift he bestows upon his children. A last display of his affections, by removing those he deems worthy, from this earth. Often it is seen as untimely, or even too late. We are capable of breaking the glass. The question is will we see it as an act of power, art, a gift, or blasphemy. Would it be mocking God, or becoming him?”

“Are we not made in his image, though? If my child followed in my footsteps, I’d be honored. Proud. I wonder if...well...if there were a god, would he see us as such?” He took another drink, letting the fluid run hot and thick down his throat. It was comforting, both the whiskey and the company of this man he considered….he considered what? His therapist? No, he was far more than that. His friend? At the very least. And this...strange attraction he felt, what was that about? He pushed it aside for now. It was just like him to ruin a moment by overthinking. “Maybe he does already, hmm?”

“As you said, and I’ve said before, we are made in his image, thus, like him. We are all Gods of our own making. It is up to us to decide how we wish to inflict our love, and our wrath. Typhoid and swans, it all comes from the same place,” Hannibal explained, taking another drink of his brandy, leaning forward, strong forearms braced as he held the glass in his hands, and kept his keen eyes on Will’s.

Will’s eyes traveled over the exposed muscle of Hannibal’s arms and back up to his lips, wet with brandy. As he knocked back the rest of his whiskey, he revelled in the bold heat settling in his belly. “Love and wrath. I wonder why I felt so compelled to kill Randall. I went blind with rage when I saw him here, with you, like that.” Ah alcohol, making him painfully, awkwardly honest again. He felt his cheeks heat even as the words left his mouth.

Hannibal finished his brandy and then set the glass down, angling his body towards Will’s. He wondered the same thing, but had a few  ideas as to why Will wanted to kill Randall. “Like  _ that _ ? You mean him kissing me and the knowledge that had you left, we would have gone further still.” A nudge, but he was still by all accounts behaving himself as he’d said he would. The blush on Will’s face was certainly more than from the whiskey he was drinking. “I believe you have answered your own question, Will. Should you choose to acknowledge it.”

Will felt something strange and foreign stir within him, like the phantom beast in his walls at home, nails skittering across the floorboards and scratching to get out. A subtle, barely there smirk threatened one corner of his kitten-like mouth. “Is that what you’re attracted to, then, Hannibal? Young, impressionable, easily molded, quick-tempered, weak-wristed. Putty in your hands to form as you want?” His eyes met the doctor’s, more boldly than he felt as he extended his empty glass to him to refill.

“Do you feel as though I want to  _ mold _ you, Will?” Hannibal asked, with mirth and lust in his eyes. He licked his lips, and rose from his seat with an amused nod, taking Will’s glass to refill, and his own. Sitting back down, he handed Will his, and then sipped his own, setting it on the table. “As for the type with whom I’m attracted, all you would need to answer your query there is a mirror. I have one handy should you require it.” Ah, but their dance together was always a pleasant one, and the doctor felt himself becoming more enchanted. It was not solely Will’s good looks that drew the Ripper in, but his mind, his potential. All of which would be revealed in time, he new.

_ He really is attracted to me,  _ Will thought to himself somewhat dumbstruck at the idea. It had definitely been on his mind, obviously, since they’d shared that kiss, and yet it still seemed hard to believe. He snorted through flared nostrils, coughing out a dry laugh, attempting to deflect attention as he was wont to do. “So it’s the broken ponies you like. Do you think if you love me enough you can fix me? Because I’d love to save you the time and inform you, I can never be fixed. Therapy, pills, psychoanalysis...none of that works on people like me.” He gave a sad smile and knocked back his refreshed drink quickly, immediately setting the tumbler down beside him. “What do the kids today call it? A dumpster fire?” the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement, laughing at his own little joke.

“You are not a broken pony, Will, nor a… _ dumpster fire _ ,” Hannibal said, the words sounding strange coming from his elegant mouth. “You simply need to become aware of who you are and realize your potential. Even if you are broken, the teacup can come back together. The cracks filled with gold.” The doctor reached out and touched Will’s arm, leaning close. “The mirrors of mind can reflect the best of you, not the worst of someone else.”

The younger man looked at Hannibal and could tell he meant the words that flowed like honey from his lips; he could see what shown behind the sometimes indecipherable dark pools of his eyes. Will looked down at Hannibal’s hand on his arm. “And what do the mirrors in your mind reflect, Hannibal? Me?” he asked softly, his voice breaking a bit.

“We reflect each other. We’re exactly alike, Will,” Hannibal murmured, and trailed his hand up to his shoulder, the pad of his fingertip kissing his neck just minutely. He gazed at Will as though he was the most beautiful work of art he’d ever seen, because to Hannibal, he was. The tension was palpable, and the doctor savored it, their feelings and wants reaching a monumental crescendo.  

Will’s breath hitched in his throat audibly, and his licked his lips, the slow heat building deep in his belly at the slightest touch of his hand. It was the same hunger he’d felt at Christmas, as though Hannibal was a living magnet to which he was uncontrollably attracted. He placed one hand in the center of the man’s chest, at first not sure if it was to push him away or draw him in, but then felt his fingers curl into the fabric and knew, instantly, what was written in his future. “H-h-h-haaaanibal,” he drawled, leaning in, the name slipping from his mouth more like a plea, a broken prayer, his lips seeking the doctor’s.  

Hannibal’s hand went to the back of Will’s head then, cupping it as he canted his head and took Will’s mouth. He slipped his tongue into his mouth, hotly, scraping his teeth over the slick muscle. It was on the edge of danger, as the cannibal could easily bit into it, taste the flesh, but he didn’t. He fed from him instead, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. It was an indulgence, gluttony, and for Will he was insatiable. When he pulled back to breathe, he smiled, seductive and full of love, just before he murmured, “Will…”

The brunet felt like he’d been starved all his life and had his first taste of sustenance. He barely allowed Hannibal a second to gasp for air before he crashed his mouth against his once more, moaning as their tongues twisted and curled around one another. One hand remained curled tucked into Hannibal’s chest, slender finger slipping between the buttons and feeling the light tickle of hair just there. “Hannibal, Hannibal,” he finally whispered again when he pulled back.

Hannibal sniffed, his lip curling up to show off his pointed fangs. He pressed their brows together, looming over Will as their hearts seemed to sync up. He was hard in his fine trousers, and unabashedly so, not trying to conceal it in the least. The doctor wanted more, wanted every last part of Will for his own, but as always, he was patient. Veiny hands caressed the younger man’s jaw, as he gazed at him. “Tell me what you desire, Will. I would deny you nothing.”

“I want...I want everything. You. If you want me too,” Will whispered, his voice oddly assured even as the desires manifested themselves like smoke and fire between the two men, entwining about them like a dancing serpent. “I want to...I’m not sure what it is I want, but it involves you…”

With a grin, Hannibal nodded, slowly. “I want you, very much. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you in Jack’s office.” A confession long overdo, but the moment had taken ages to marinate, as had the passion. It was time to savor what he’d been waiting for. The doctor pulled Will over him, leaning back on the couch, a sign to show he was willing to take control as he might usually. Grasping his face, he kissed him again, his full lips slotting perfectly with Will’s.

Will couldn’t hold back the telling moan that escaped his lips when he responded on some deeper, more primal level to the feel of the doctor’s body beneath him. Thick thighs straddled Hannibal, a surge of power coursing through him as he pressed his palms flat against his broad chest. He felt the muscle beneath, so very different from a woman and yet he wanted and wanted more, craved to feel the warm skin beneath.

“Yes, Will, unleash. Follow your most primal of instincts,” Hannibal husked, rutting his groin up into the soft, muscular swell of Will’s ass. He wrapped his hand around his throat, thumbing over the pulse before he slid it to his nape and tugged him down. Clashing their lips, and teeth together, he growled again. It was a challenge for power. Another prod. How far would Will go? Would he take control entirely? Hannibal was eager to find out.

The push brought it out of Will, a need to dominate locked behind his usual demure, quiet persona. A desire to conquer and possess a man as powerful as Hannibal sang in his veins, the hand around his throat beckoning him forward. “Any preconceptions you may have had about me, Hannibal, I assure you are entirely false,” he rasped roughly, the elder man’s thumb over his adam’s apple constricting his voice to a harsh whisper. Bringing his elbow up, he managed to swing his arm around Hannibal’s neck in an unexpectedly aggressive maneuver, dislodging Hannibal’s grip on his own neck and using his body weight to bear down on him. The thought crossed his mind that Hannibal may have allowed him to do it, but it was nonetheless satisfactory and arousing to him.

It was entirely beautiful, and Hannibal snarled against Will’s mouth, biting at his lips as he snapped his hips upward again. His chest heaved, heart racing, as his skin burned with pent up lust. Only Will could ever incite the fire inside of him, no one else, not Tier, or anyone before that. “Then show me who you are,” he demanded, licking back into the empath’s mouth with wild abandon.

Will rose then, up off him entirely, pulling his shirt open almost angrily, up and off, and reaching for Hannibal’s. He ripped the garment from the older man violently, buttons singing across the room and pinging against glass and plaster, going god knows where. Blue eyes burned dark as night, and he stood between his knees as he whipped his belt through it’s loops and unfastened his fly. He slowly pulled down the zipper, and bit his bottom lip, looking through hooded eyes and dark lashes at Hannibal. His cheeks were flushed with heat and power. “Do it,” he demanded in a rough, deep voice.

Hannibal arched a brow, and then didn’t delay. He righted his position and pulled Will’s cock from its holding place, promptly nosing around his shaft. Ah, but he smelled divine, and while he fully intended on savoring Will later, this was not an exercise in taking one's time, not now. He ran a hot stripe from the large balls he pulled up, all the way to the tip of Will’s cock, wrapping his lips around the tip. The doctor’s senses were flooded with Will, and he committed every last bit of him to memory.

“Oh fuck,” Will grunted, weaving long, rough fingers through the silken strands of Hannibal’s hair, messing it up entirely. He’d never gotten a blow job from a man before, and truth be told never imagined one from someone like Hannibal, but this was by far the best of his life. He forced his cock in and out of Hannibal’s mouth roughly, holding the back of his head. He jerked his hips, his sizable balls slapping against Hannibal’s chin. “F-f-f-uck, Hannibal, god,” he whispered, buttocks flexing as he chased the wet heat of the doctor’s mouth. 

Hands sliding around, Hannibal kneaded Will’s ass, digging his nails into them and dragging down. It would leave questionable marks for Alana to find, should he see her again. He didn’t think there was any point, though. The doctor took everything Will gave him, opening his throat as he cut sharp eyes up into sea blues. Will looked like a god, his god, and he sped up, wanting to hear more of those delightful sounds.

Will was definitely vocal, obscene grunts and rough panting echoing in Hannibal’s living room. Suddenly he pulled off and sank to his knees, undoing Hannibal’s belt. He plunged his tongue inside Hannibal’s mouth, holding both sides of his head and kissing him with an almost violent urgency. When he finally pulled off with a gasp for air, he said it, with a heat in his eyes the burned like fire. “I….I...am going to fuck you,” he murmured decisively, his deep voice cracking as he said the words.

“Fuck me in the bedroom. There is lubricant beside the bed,” Hannibal said, his voice ragged with want. He very much wanted Will to fuck him. The empath was an exception; usually the doctor was the dominant. They were a partnership, even if not officially. He rose up from the sofa, his lips swollen and red, waiting to see what Will would do. Would he agree to the bedroom? A more intimate setting, or was it the urgency and desperation he craved?

Will wouldn’t be told what to do, and a devilish smile curled his lips, his eyes taking a dark glint. “Fuck the bedroom. I’ll fuck you wherever I want. Right here on the floor,” he growled. “Don’t move,” he said, and rose, pushing his pants the rest of the way off and leaving them carelessly on the carpet. He walked away and returned a moment later with a vial of oil from the kitchen. It seemed fitting somehow.

_ Exquisite.  _ Hannibal grinned to himself, removing the rest of his attire, and setting it aside with the torn garment. He stayed in his position, hands clasped behind his back as though he were gazing at a work of art, cock standing straight out. The fire crackled nearby, making his bronzed skin and fierce eyes glow. When Will was back, he licked his lips, raising a brow before getting on the rug. It was utterly debauched. Depraved. Perfect. “Very well, William. Take me as you see fit. I am here for your pleasure alone, if you wish me to be.”

Will smiled and dropped to the soft carpet, running his hands all over Hannibal’s body, feeling over the muscle and skin, ribs and bones, every inch under his rough palms felt like he was a greek god. Facing him, kneeling in front of him, he wrapped a hand around the back of his neck as stormy deep blue eyes penetrated honey amber ones. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

Hannibal smiled, and cupped Will’s jaw, leaning in to kiss him as he got on his knees as well. He slipped his tongue inside the hot furnace of his mouth, groaning quietly. It was nirvana, savoring him this way, and he knew he only needed more. Cock leaking, Hannibal grasped it, stroking himself back and forth slowly. “Mm…”

The brunet sank into the intense heat of the kiss, licking into his mouth with a primal, desperate wantonness, and pushed him to the carpet, maneuvering the older man to lay flat on his back. Crawling over him, he laid over him, grinding their slippery cocks against one another, the friction of his belly pressing them together. “Oh fuck, oh fuck that feels good, so fucking good. I want to fuck you, I need to be inside you, Hannibal,” Will moaned, completely absent of shame anymore even as the filthy words slipped out of his lips and over Hannibal’s skin.

Veiny hands gripped Will’s ass, and Hannibal grunted. It felt unbelievable good, Will’s weight atop his own, their cocks sliding together in perfect harmony. It was breathtaking, the way the empath was giving over to indulgence, and he knew he would never forget this time. A time that would be the first of many, he hoped. “Work me open, Will. Do you know how? Start with one finger, and add another, until you feel I’m suitable enough for you to…  _ fuck _ me.” Profanity from Hannibal was not common, but he felt the same desperation, so he added. “I need to feel you inside of me. Let us conjoin, and consummate.”

Will wanted it all and felt impatient, and while he knew most of the mechanics, the words Hannibal spoke gave him something to focus on...his paddle even in his first time penetrating a man. He squeezed lube over his fingers and did as he’d suggested, rubbing the callused pad of one finger over Hannibal’s hole. Pushing the back of his thigh up with his own, he hooked his elbow beneath his knee and pushed gently inside, only the tip, and the feeling of resistance was so strong he wondered if he could ever get anything as big as his cock inside. As desperate as he was, reckless even, he didn’t want to really hurt him. Patiently, he worked his index finger to his knuckle and then as he felt him relax, all the way in. he gauged the man’s reactions, measuring breaths and grunts and stilled his movements to observe, the veil between them growing thinner by the second. “Okay…?”

At the first contact of Will's fingers to Hannibal's hole, he took in a breath. He hadn't been certain that they would ever get to this point, and even if they had not, he could have found nourishment at the very sight of him, as well as their conversations. Yet here they were, and Doctor Lecter was quite pleased. Will was dangerous, cunning, and yet clearly cared enough not to hurt him in the most intimate of ways. That could come later, and under different circumstances. "Yes," he answered, his eyes full of love and lust. "I am ready for the second finger, Mylimasis. You are doing brilliantly."

Never had Will felt such intensity looking into someone’s eyes as he did in this moment looking into Hannibal’s. He could see the walls crumble, he could see the usually staid control in this man with such a perfectly in place, poised demeanor, begin to fall as his lips parted, jaw dropping as Will inserted a second and eventually a third finger. Scissoring thick fingers slick with lube, the brunet’s own will power was fading.

Hannibal groaned, his hips moving subtly as his hole contracted around Will’s fingers. His tanned nipples were hard, his chest heaving, and he was more than ready. “I’m ready, Will. Ravage me as you wish,” he rasped, his lips coming out thicker since he was aroused, and less composed. The doctor’s person suit was beginning to fade, the beast howling in its cage, ready to devour.

Twisting his wrist a final time, he withdrew his fingers and began to pour additional lubrication over his cock, which bobbed insistently, pre come dripping from the tip. “Ravage you...how well we know the intrinsic desires of the beasts we each carry. I feel like I want to claw you open and cover myself in you, Hannibal,” he whispered, the edges of his lips twisting sadistically, and before he finished the sentence, he was plunging inside, pushing past the ring of muscle that gave its resistance. Will was not gentle or careful, and he was glad he’d taken the extra time to use his fingers, otherwise he was sure he’d truly have torn Hannibal in two. “F-f-f-f-fuck…” he gasped, stretching the word out in a labored exhale. The tightness was more than anything he’d ever experienced, like pushing into a wet cavern not meant to accept any form of displacement.

Hannibal’s lips curled into a grunting snarl, and he raked his manicured nails down Will’s back, his eyes locked onto his as his own cock slapped against his furry belly from the force of the intrusion. “Will…” he growled, letting his approval be known that way, in a way that they both would understand. Violence. Blood. Savagery. It was their love song. Wrapping his long legs around Will’s body, he panted, his lips parted in ecstasy as his free hand went to grip chocolate curls, tugging him down for a biting kiss. “Yes, Will, sublime.”

Will’s hips began rolling as he felt the older man’s body give in to him, surrender and relax. His firm ass flexed and he pushed Hannibal’s legs higher, looking down to watch himself thrust in and out of his hole. The copious lube oozed out, and he added more at the base before moving back in, as deep as he could get. He watched closely for the doctors every move and breath, gauging until it was almost like they became one being, one organism moving together. He wrapped his hand around Hannibal’s cock then, thumbing precome over the slit.

Dark eyes gazed, hooded, and burning as he was taken. Hannibal licked his lips, and groaning roughly through huffs of breath. It was raw, intoxicating, and more perfect than he’d ever imagined. Running his hands down Will’s chest, through the sheen of sweat, he pinched a pert nipple, rolling it between forefinger and thumb, cock head expelling a few more rewarding beads of clear fluid. “Ah, Will-”

At the sounds of his name, Will tightened his grip on Hannibal, tugging faster. The sweat gathering on his brow tightened his curls, making them stick to his forehead and neck, and he finally leaned down over him, panting over his neck. He mouthed over the skin and groaned, sharp teeth scraping over his pulse. It was as though he could feel Hannibal in his very blood, and when he closed his eyes, all he could see was an erotic dance of blood, violence and sex, sweat covering them both as Will’s pace became more erratic, faster, and indeed, more violent. “Oh, fuck, Hannibal, Hannibal…”  

Hannibal all but howled as he neared the precipice of his release, threatening to topple over the edge into an ocean of unbridled desire. His heart thudded, and he held the back of Will’s head, encouraging him to mark him in his own way. He needed it there, a physical reminder in case this was the last time he got to partake of his beloved in such a primal way. “Come, Will, give me everything,” he huffed, wrapping his limbs around him.

The empath knew what he wanted, he felt it surge through him, a lust that burned like a wildfire in his soul. Battering against his prostate, Will pounded into him as teeth locked down on his neck. The gentle snap of skin gave way as beads of coppery fluid flooded his tongue, and he reared back with a growl, a sound nothing human could ever make. “Hannibal!” he shouted, the man’s blood staining his teeth and dripped from the corner of his lips as he came, filling him with his hot seed.

“Will,” Hannibal snarled, roaring deeply and all but howling when he felt the break of his skin. He’d been marked now, and Will was partaking of his very life force. It was poignant, and keen eyes darkened further, reverent, as he watched Will come. “Magnificent,” he nearly cried out, finding his own release, come spurting up his belly as his hole throbbed, milking every last drop from the profiler.

Will gripped both sides of Hannibal’s face between his hands and kissed him passionately, licking into his mouth and devouring the moans from him as he came. Oh how the sound of his name on Hannibal’s lips, accent thick, lisp pronounced, hair scattered across his forehead, the poised, well spoken, buttoned-up man beneath him ravished and debauched, dismantled, and all by him. “Hannibal,” Will growled, his thumb rubbing across teeth marks on his neck, blood smearing.

“You have marked not only my skin, but burned your name across my heart,” Hannibal whispered, roughly, and bit at Will’s lower lip, sinking his sharp fangs into the plump flesh. He drew a couple of beads of blood, tasting him as he'd always wanted to. Divine. In his memory palace resounded a symphony in honor of their coupling.

“We’ve marked each other, Hannibal. We’re connected now. Entwined. I don’t think either of us could survived separation.” Will’s breath gradually slowed from its frantic pace and his fingers played over the dense fur covering Hannibal’s chest, palm spreading flat over his heart.

“We have, and are. I would fill the graveyards before I would allow anyone to separate us, Will.” Hannibal placed his hand over Will’s, kissing him softly between breaths, gazing at him adoringly. He wanted to inquire about Alana, but thought it best to observe, and wait, much like a lion in the jungle. For now he would enjoy their time.

It was just there, the briefest flicker through Hannibal’s deep, gold eyes, something that came and went, but Will was too blissed out to chase it farther. The chemical high flooding his synapses overrode all else as he kissed Hannibal’s strong jaw, looking up at him. “How long truly did you feel this way about me, Hannibal? How asleep was I? How did I not see it?”

“Your forts are quite sturdy. Impressive and tough to penetrate,” Hannibal answered, smiling at Will as he kissed him again, feeling their bond. Changing positions, he laid with Will on their sides, admiring him, his cunning, and his beauty. “I have felt this way since the moment I first saw you in Jack’s office, and it has only deepened since then. We often ignore what is right in our midst.”

Will’s blue gaze lingered over Hannibal’s features as his fingers traced the slope of his cheekbone. “I hope I don’t make you regret this. Regret choosing to help me, regret choosing to love me.”

“I never feel guilty about anything, nor regret. Certainly not for loving you,” Hannibal answered, nipping at Will’s finger gently, when he turned his head to capture it. He wouldn’t  _ ever _ feel remorse for having chosen Will, in any way at all.

“Then we are of the same mind,” Will said with a soft smile, eyes wet with the emotion he felt in that moment. He kissed Hannibal again and again, fully ensconced in the cradled protection of his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

Will was in the classroom, seated at his desk and going over papers when Alana walked in a few days later. He was lost in thought when her voice broke through his concentration.

“Hello Will,” she greeted, and he looked up startled. She did look beautiful, long dark curls cascading over her small shoulders. She wore a deep blue wrap dress and heels, but he saw her through different eyes now. It felt strange. He didn’t feel that anxious tension in his belly anymore.

“Alana, how are you?” he asked as he started to get up.

“I’m….I’m fine Will. No...sit, sit. Can I talk to you a moment?” she asked quietly.

“Of course, yeah,” he replied, shaking his head and sighing. God, what did she want? He was really hoping he’d have this conversation later, but he’d have to tell her about his relationship with Hannibal sooner or later.

Alana sank to the chair, her hands wandering into her lap and over her knees, and she swallowed hard and finally looked at him, apprehension on her face. “I know we’ve...well, we’ve only been on a few dates, and I...I know we have been exploring things more lately…” she started hesitantly.

Will shook his head and interrupted her. “Alana, there’s something I need to tell you,” he began, but she impulsively reached a hand across his desk to touch his arm.

“Will, stop. I have to get this out first before...before I can’t anymore,” she said.

“Alright,” he conceded.

“I’ve been questioning some things in myself lately. I’ve met someone. Well, no...I mean, I’d met her before, but I didn’t think, I didn’t know...well, I guess what I am saying is, I have feelings for her. I tried pushing it back because I didn’t think she’d feel the same. But we connected. I spent the last weekend with her and...Will, I’m so sorry, but I can’t lie to you or lead you on,” she said, all the words coming out in a rush.

Will laughed then, exhaling with a sigh of relief. “Oh, Alana. Alana, it’s okay,” he started , laying his hand atop hers and squeezing lightly. “I mean...I care deeply for you, I want you to be happy, yeah, but...I met someone too. Or rather, someone I’ve known a while but...well, this is funny. It’s...it’s Hannibal,” he said, blushing as he said his name. 

“Doctor Lecter?” Alana sputtered incredulously. She wanted to be mad, offended really, but she realized in a split second how completely absurd it would be given what she’d just revealed.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” he said, his eyes meeting hers, and he smiled.

“Oh my god, Will, Jesus,” she said, looking down and laughing, exhaling heavily. “OK, how stupid is this then? We’re both...we both…” she said, looking up at him, blue eyes sparkling.

“I guess this is one for the...grandkids, eh?” he chuckled.

“So we can still be friends, right? I wouldn’t want to lose that,” she said hopefully.

“Of course, Alana, yes of course. You’ve been...you are an amazing woman, and whoever this girl is, she’s very lucky.”

“Her name’s Margo,” Alana said, her turn to blush now.

“Well, I’m sure we will all have to have a get-together at Hannibal’s and meet this Margo,” Will laughed, knowing Alana and Hannibal were friends and former colleagues too.

“That sounds so good. It’s been too long since I had his cooking. Ugh, now I’m hungry,” she said, rubbing her belly.

“Let’s get lunch,” Will suggested, getting up and putting his papers in his bag. She grinned and stood as well.

“Sounds perfect.”

***

The next evening Hannibal had the table set, candles lit in the center of a beautiful piece. He’d made lamb with mint sauce for supper, and paired it with a delicious red wine. Dressed in a black and maroon double breasted suit, suspenders under that, over a white shirt, he set the dish on the counter and waited. Will would be over soon, and he fully intended on finding out what the situation with Alana was. When he heard the doorbell, he went to it, and opened it up, smiling. “Hello, Will.”

The smells that greeted him when Hannibal opened the door were nothing compared to the jaw-dropping attractiveness of the doctor. The maroon brought out a certain depth and alluring darkness in his eyes that made Will’s mouth go dry instantly. All he could think of was how he looked taken apart in the throes of pleasure when they’d been together before, and he swallowed thickly and licked his lips with a smile.

“Hello, Doct...I mean, Hannibal,” he said, and stepped inside, taking off his coat. He pulled a small bottle of an especially nice Japanese whiskey and handed it to Hannibal. “Thought I’d bring this to replace some of what I drank the other night, you know?”

Hannibal took Will’s coat, and the bottle, hanging up the aforementioned on the rack. He looked at it, and smiled, leaning in to kiss Will softly on the lips. “Very thoughtful of you, Will, thank you,” he said, rubbing his arm affectionately. The doctor couldn’t help but recall the other night as well, and in fact, he wondered how it might feel to be inside Will later on. A fitting dessert, he thought to himself, amusedly, and lustfully. Holding up the bottle, he licked his lips,  “After supper perhaps, hm?”

Warmth stained Will’s cheeks to a rosy glow at the proximity and remembering all they’d done. “Ahh...hmmm… yes, after…” he stuttered, looking down shyly and licking his lips. How did this man have such power over him, to make him feel like this even after the intimacy they’d shared.

Oh how Hannibal wanted him then, as always but something about the blush of his cheeks, and the way he swept his tongue over those lips….it drove the doctor wild. He set the bottle down then, and backed Will against the wall, kissing him properly. It would serve to break the ice, as well as the tension, so they could enjoy their meal together. Hungrily, he licked into his beau’s mouth, holding his face between skilled, surgeon’s hands.

Will was glad for the wall, as he swooned, a small, somewhat embarrassingly needy whimper left his lips. He steadied himself against Hannibal’s chest before sliding one hand around a thick bicep. Gods, has he always been this slutty? The doctor brought something out of him, and it was a little shocking yet he lacked all self control around him it seemed. “H-h-h-h-h-h-h-hannibal,” he gasped, kissing him back, even after pulling away to steal a breath of air.

“Will….” Hannibal murmured, grinning seductively as he flicked his tongue over Will’s lips, then took the lower one between his teeth to worry the plump flesh. He seemed to lose some of his composure around the empath, especially when he heard how Will said his name. It delighted him to no end. “I fear if I do not stop now, I may be forced to skip supper and go right to dessert…”

Will rolled his hips against Hannibal once more indulgently. “We don’t want the food to...go to waste now, do we,” he rasped, his voice dropping nearly an octave as he whispered, blue eyes heavily lidded with need.

“It’s covered and cooling on the counter,” Hannibal whispered, bracketing Will’s head with a flat palm on either side. He licked down to his neck, biting at his pulse before he pulled back and sniffed a snarl. “However, yes, we should eat.” 

“Faster the better,” Will teased, cupping Hannibal’s cock through his pants briefly before pulling away. “Come and get it, right, Doctor?” he said with a smirk, turning for the kitchen and tucking his hands in his pockets with a certain purpose in mind.

Hannibal adjusted himself, growling and then grinned, following Will. “A feast I will always find myself wanting,” he rumbled, eyeing the empath’s well rounded posterior. He certainly wanted to get dinner over with, for once, so they could partake of one another all night long. “Ready or not, Will, here I come…” he grinned, wolfishly.

The empath laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not yet, but you will,” he joked and took a seat at the dinner table, waiting for Hannibal to serve their food. The table had already been set, wine breathing in a glass carafe, and he poured them each a glass.

Chuckling in answer, Hannibal pressed down his erection, and went to procure their food. “We both will.” He set each platter down, announcing it, and took a seat himself. Lifting his wine glass he swirled it, sniffed, and sipped, letting it sit on his tongue before a slow swallow. It was divine.

Dinner was eaten faster than ever before, both men eyeing each other with lustful impatience. Normally Will loved to savor his meals, every bite pure heaven, but tonight Will wanted one thing and one thing alone. He wanted Hannibal to fuck him. He’d never done it before, not received, but he knew Hannibal was the only one he’d ever want it with.

Pushing his plate away, he took the napkin from his lap and dabbed his lips. “That was delicious, but nothing compared to what’s yet to come, I think,” he said, looking at Hannibal from beneath his lashes with a smirk.

Hannibal was likewise one to savor his meals, but he only had one in mind now. Will. He collected their plates, then licked his lips as he eyed the beautiful profiler. “I would have to agree with you there, Will. Let me put the dishes up and then, perhaps, we should take our drinks to my bedroom, hm?”

Will rose and turned from the table and turned with a sy smile over his shoulder. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom then,” he said with a smirk, and started unbuttoning his shirt and unbuckling his belt as he walked away.

Once in the bedroom, Will quickly undressed, stripping his clothes off and leaving them strewn across the floor. He wound up laying on the bed, on his side, waiting for Hannibal. He knew leaving the clothes around might tick the doctor off, but he also knew he’d be too distracted by his nudity. It wasn’t like him to be so bold, but the liquor and food all made him want to just see the look on the austere man’s face when he saw him.  

Hannibal walked in a moment later, and he did in fact notice the clothing strewn about but more than that, he noticed Will. Seeing him like that, on his side, cock hard against his perfect skin made the good doctor lose all inhibition. He licked his lips, a deep rumble resonating from his throat as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, shoes, and suit coat already off. “You are exquisite. A work of art.”

“Come and get it, for real this time,  _ Doctor _ ,” Will purred as he ran a hand down his own chest, pinching a nipple before sliding down to grip his own cock and stroke it. Something about the fire in Hannibal’s dark eyes drove him wild, made him feel brave and bold, and he stared as the handsome older man undressed before him, shamelessly stroking himself.

Like a lion stalking his prey, Hannibal moved gracefully, with power and charisma. He bore his  teeth, placing his clothes over the back of the chair, naked now, as he prowled closer. Stopping right before Will, he hooked a hand under each of Will’s knees and pulled him onto his back, then to the edge of the bed. The doctor leaned forward, still standing but laying atop Will, between his legs from the side of the bed, and kissed him hard. “I do not need to procure what is  _ already _ mine,” he growled, and then bit that lip, flicking his tongue to collect the blood.

Will arched up into him, groaning wantonly at the pain and wrapping his arms around muscular shoulders. It was an animalistic desire he ignited within, and he wrapped strong legs around the doctor’s waist, his hard cock rutting against his belly. “I’m yours, Hannibal,” Will rasped, biting back hard, teeth snapping against his mouth.

Hannibal groaned then, swapping their blood between their lips. A bond of their own making. He ground down against Will’s ass, pressing and sliding together. “And I am yours,” he promised, and then licked down the empath’s body, to his cock, balls, and finally the cleft of his ass. The doctor spread his cheeks, and plunged his tongue in before anything could be said.

“Ahhh…” Will gasped, holding his knees to allow him better access. The wet slide of Hannibal’s skilled, deft tongue left him panting and positively writhing. He’d never before wanted to be penetrated that way, never even done much more than play with himself back there while masturbating now and then, certainly nothing more than a finger. But the way Hannibal lapped at him made him feel wanton and curious. His cock bobbed heavily, a strand of pre come dripping to the doctor’s brown hair that fell in his face, and the image was perverse and utterly beautiful.

Hannibal licked up to Will’s plump balls, his nearly opaque eyes cut right to piercing blues. He moved to his cock then, suckling the head, and down the shaft to the hilt. The doctor was ravenous, and after a few moments of sucking Will’s cock, he went back down to his hot hole, feasting on him like the succulent buffet that he was. He needed more sounds from him, wanted to see and hear him come utterly undone under his lips and tongue.

Will’s thighs and belly trembled, his eyes growing dark as his pupils dilated. His panting grew ragged, adam’s apple bobbing slowing up the length of his neck as he licked his lips. His back came off the bed, and he wove his long fingers in Hannibal’s silken strands. “Oh fuck, Hannibal, I’m going to come if you...god, Hannibal, please please fuck me,” he begged in a raw voice.

A request the doctor could not refuse, nor did he want to. He kissed back up Will’s body, grabbing the lube, and slicked up his cock, then his fingers. Slowly, he slid one in, whispering by his ear, “I must work you open first, Mylimasis,” he said, and continued to do so, finally adding a second, and a third. When he was confident that Will was well prepared, he positioned his cockhead at his opening, and carefully slid in, snarling out a growl as he did. “Ah, Will…”

Having never had more than fingers inside him, Will was terrified for a moment at the invasion, tensing and gripping Hannibal’s biceps painfully hard. His eyes wide open, he searched the doctor’s face and for the first time, saw clearly past the barricades and doors that were always up. He saw himself there, saw himself through Hannibal’s eyes and knew he was adored. It was evident, and he took one deep breath and relaxed his body, everything giving way and absorbing Him Into his being. “Hannibal…” he whispered, craning his head up to kiss the man hungrily.

“I love you, Will,” Hannibal whispered back, moving slow for the time being, giving Will time to adjust even still. There was no hurry. Their journey had taken them a while to even get here, and the fact that they were at last, was more than the doctor had ever surmised. He’d been curious how things would all transpire, and here it was. He gazed at him, kissing him soft, then a bit harder, muscles flexing as strong hips thrusted to satisfy them both.

The admission shook him to his core. Love was such a heavy word, loaded with meaning, and yet he truly felt it as he’d never felt with anyone else. Will felt the intimate way Hannibal opened him, saw all his innermost darkest corners and still loved him, and the acceptance was overwhelming. He responded in kind, driven and compelled powerfully as the doctor’s body breached him and moved deeper. It was as though he was in a weightless dream state, seeing the darkness that swirled around them, enveloped them and tied them together, bonding their spirits as well as their bodies. He wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s waist, heels digging into his back as he grew more feral, growling and biting at his lips. “I love you,” he whispered in a deep rasp.

The acceptance was what Hannibal needed, and he began to move harder, faster, his ass flexing below perfect dimples. To say he felt alight would be an understatement. The doctor was ablaze, the fires of love and lust consuming him entirely. He surrendered to it, let the passion erupt within as his own threatened to spill into Will. The bed rocked, headboard thudding gently against the wall, harder with each increase in power. With a bite of his own, he snarled, sweat forming on his perfectly bronzed skin. “Will-”

The doctor struck something inside Will which he’d never felt, and a spark of pleasure shot through him like lightning. He cried out loudly, his voice broken and high-pitched, and he came over his own belly, hit, thick ropes shooting from his cock, untouched and utterly shocked, his moans sounding far outside himself. “Haaaaaanibal!” he howled, his entire body arching off the bed into the older man.

Seeing and feeling Will come like, sent Hannibal into a sort of frenzy. He all but howled like a beast, pumping into his beloved again and again, sweat dripping down his back. He kissed that sound from his mouth, hungrily, and eagerly, as his release swirled in his core. It took only a few more passes and he couldn’t hold on any longer. He filled Will’s hole up with hot sticky seed, his body shaking from the force of it. “Will…my beauty-” 

Will’s fingers curled into Hannibal’s biceps, slipping across damp skin and digging his nails in to hold on. Of all his sexual experiences, he’d never felt anything so profound, so completely mind shatteringly perfect or so intensely intimate as this. It was as though they were both utterly and completely laid bare to one another, and it was beyond acceptance, beyond tolerance. Will felt a sense of worship and awe staring at the beast that rose from Hannibal. “You’re...you’re just...amazing,” he gasped, clinging to the older man and for once in his life wanting that eye contact he spent so much effort avoiding.  

Preening under the praise, Hannibal smiled, stroking Will’s face as he rolled them onto their sides. He hooked Will’s leg over his hip, and ran his palm up and down it. “Thank you, Will, but I must say that you are quite phenomenal yourself,” the doctor rumbled, whispering the words as he held Will in his loving embrace.

Will stared into Hannibal’s eyes, smitten and love struck - two things he couldn’t remember ever feeling about another person. Certainly not from someone who returned the emotion. He raked his fingers through Hannibal’s thick, dark chest hair and his pink lips quirked into a smile. “It takes one to draw one in, then, I suppose,” he grinned, leaning in, to kiss the edge of the doctor’s mouth.

***

A year had gone by, and Will was finally moving in to live with Hannibal. They decided to keep his place in Wolf Trap for the simple reason of a great place to keep for fishing and relaxing. Will needed a quiet place in nature to clear his head and stay sane when the pressures at work got to be too much, and the doctor had been kind enough to accommodate. He’d even relented in letting him keep a few of the dogs under the condition that Will clean up after them.

Today though, after breakfast, Hannibal was all smiles, delighted that Will was moving in. “Perhaps we should venture out to wolf trap today to procure your things, hm?”

There was so little that gave Will reason to smile, but his life dating Hannibal, and his dogs, were the things that brought him the most joy. He was looking forward to moving in for real, being able to wake up to his handsome lover every day. He wondered how much farther they’d progress, but still, moving in was a big deal for him. “I think that’s the plan, yes. Hopefully I won’t mess up your pristine house too much. Buster’s been very good lately about not getting on the couch,” he said with a laugh, blue eyes crinkling at the corners with real happiness.  

Hannibal walked closer to Will, and cupped his jaw, thumbing over his soft beard as he looked at his beloved. He was even more handsome and beautiful when he looked happy like that. It was overwhelming, and beautiful, which gave the doctor no other choice but to lean forward and kiss him soundly. With a slide of tongue, his other arm hooked around Will’s waist, drawing him closer still, his heart beating a little faster. “I know that I am irrevocably in love, as the hair is worth it, if it means I get to enjoy the pleasure of your company full time.”

“You know, we’ve been working so hard with the move, maybe when we make that trip back out today we can do a little fishing? Have you ever done it before?” Will asked, eyes shining. He had to admit, picturing Hannibal in a pair of waders was somewhat erotic, and it might be a nice role reversal to introduce the doctor to something he might not be know about.

Hannibal raised a brow at Will, a smirk slightly curving on his full lips. “I am aware of the mechanics, and can even fashion lures, as you can. However, I have never purposefully gone out to fish, no,” he said, stroking Will’s cheek. He could be a good sport, sure. “I will give it my very best, for you, Mylimasis,” he crooned, always one to rise to a challenge, and usually he excelled.

Will turned his face to brush his lips against Hannibal’s palm, preening under the affection. “You excel at everything you do. I can’t imagine this could be any different,” he said softly.

Will convinced Hannibal to dress accordingly, asking him to don his most “outdoorsy” clothes. They’d be sweating and moving boxes and furniture in addition to the fishing, so he just hoped he’d not come out in dress chinos and a chambray shirt or something. He hadn’t really ever seen Hannibal in “casual” clothes. He waited downstairs in a blue tee shirt and a pale blue flannel along with his jeans.

Hannibal came down a few minutes later, dressed in jeans, and a flannel of his own. It was an outfit he’d had stowed away in case he ever needed to disguise himself. To complete the look, he left his hair a bit messy, or fluffy rather, tucked behind the sunglasses he had on the top of his head. The boots only added to his look, and he grinned, unshaven as well, a smattering of stubble scattered across his sharp jaw.

“I do hope i'm dressed appropriately for the occasion?”

Will looked him up and down hungrily. He’d never seen him like this, and it was hot as hell. The normally perfectly coiffed, well-dressed doctor looked rugged and muscular, filling out the clothes he wore to perfection. And Will had half a mind to abandon the day’s project altogether. “Maybe we should stay in,” Will said, closing the distance between them quickly as he skimmed his fingers over Hannibal’s chest. He kissed beneath his jaw with a shaky breath.

Hannibal grinned, his full lips curling as his hands slid down Will’s back, to ass, where he kneaded. When he spoke it was rough, husky, and far less elegant than normal. He’d decided if he was going to be in character, as it were, he would go all the way. “Should we, Will? Would you like to _ fuck _ me like this, hm? Wild, savage, and totally unhinged.” Hannibal gripped Will’s throat, tipping his head back with his thumb to bite his jawline as well, over to his ear. “Or perhaps I should fuck  _ you _ like this.” A pause and then, “Or we could take turns on the new sailboat I’ve bought for you.”

“Sailboat?” Will gasped. “Y-y-you got me a sailboat?” he said, wide blue eyes blinking in disbelief and excitement.

With a big smile, Hannibal nodded. “I did indeed. I hope you do not mind? Valentine’s day is only part of the reason.” He kissed Will again, pulling him close once more by his ass.

Will beamed and vibrated with joy, something he’d not felt before in any other context except perhaps with his dogs. Hannibal understood him, loved him, and it was everything he could have wanted. “Mind? I can’t believe you did something like that. Hannibal...can we go see it? I mean, maybe tomorrow or this weekend? You have it docked in Baltimore or something?” he ran his rough calloused fingertips over Hannibal’s cheekbones, staring in adoration.

“Certainly we may, and yes it is docked there,” Hannibal preened, enjoying the looks and touches. He placed his hands over Will’s, briefly, then moved them to Will’s face, gazing back with equal amounts of worship and awe. He kissed him then, once more, suckling his lower lip. “We will procure your things, then go we can visit your stream, or go fishing on your boat. We need to christen it as well, hm?”

Will smirked at the phrasing. “Christen, you say? I can think of a few ways we could do that,  _ Doctor _ ,” he said saucily, as Hannibal arched a coy brow of approval.

Will petted Buster and Winston and told him to be good boys, grabbed his wallet and glasses and went to the door to the moving truck. Soon they were on their way to Wolf Trap. They’d fed the dogs and let them out, then back in, before they’d left.

***

The ride was quiet, occasional flirtations between the two as they drove. When they arrived, Will felt a pang of nostalgia for his little house and was glad and grateful he wasn’t selling it. It felt like a lifetime away from Hannibal’s posh estate, and he marvelled how a simple country boy and unkept outdoorsman could possibly have attracted such an elegant renaissance man like Doctor Lecter, but he knew he was very lucky.

He packed up the last few boxes as the two men carried them to the truck. When they were finally done, Will gather his fishing gear, handing Hannibal a spare pair of waders he had. “We have a good solid four hours of low tide left in the day, so we should be coming back right about dinner time. I don’t mind a late dinner if you don’t? We can eat here and then head back? Eat whatever we catch. I’m optimistic we’ll catch some,” Will suggested.

Hannibal marvelled at Will’s strategic planning of their out, and the timing required for said activities. He also enjoyed the display of confidence. The waders… well, he didn’t enjoy those as much, but he would go along with the theme of the day. It wasn’t readable on his face, save for a genuine smile he gave to his beauty, pleased enough that he decided to don the waders right away once they’d finished with the moving of items. “An excellent plan, Mylimasis. It would seem as though you’ve mapped it out efficiently,” he praised, leaning in for a kiss. “I am confident you will catch something as well. I cannot say for certain if I will, but I shall, as they say, give it the old school try, hm? Perhaps after we partake of our catch of the day, we will go to see your boat, and celebrate there on the water with some wine. If you’d like?”

Will grinned, kissing Hannibal and pulling his own pair on, followed by his coat. “I’d like that very much. And...I have to say, you look really good in those,” he said with a smirk, walking all the way around him admiringly.

“Ah yes, I shall have to don them when hosting my next dinner party,” Hannibal winked, watching Will.

Will picked up his tackle box and a couple of poles and headed out the back door, leading Hannibal with him for the walk back to the river.

He pulled out the lures, crouched down as he prepared two poles, and once that was done he stood and handed one to Hannibal. “Come on, you can watch me, then I’ll guide you through it.”

“I will trust you to be my teacher then. Guide me well, Professor Graham,” Hannibal smiled, holding the pole, keeping his eyes on Will the entire time. He felt encumbered with the waders, but as always he was resourceful, able to adapt in his own way. 

Will gripped the handle and looked at Hannibal. “You have to hold it like you’re going to extend and shake someone’s hand, see? Pull back, pause just when the end leaves the river’s surface, complete the forward motion and then stop, hold the tip of the rod up,” he explained, nimble fingers sliding along the line.

After a few moments and nothing biting, he extended the rod to Hannibal, pulling the line back in. “You try. I’ll be right behind you,” he instructed. “If you feel a tug, widen your stance and I’ll show you how we catch ‘em.”

Hannibal nodded, and licked his lips, the sun shining in his amber eyes, making them appear almost golden. He smiled, not having a bad time so far, and did as bidden. “This is your element Will, you stand out and also blend all at once. A diamond amongst the coals. Perfectly in place and yet a cut above the rest.” He cast his line and waited, looking over his shoulder at his beloved. “Do let me know if I need to alter my technique.”

Of course, Will should have known Hannibal would be good at this too. He seemed to be skilled at everything. He adjust his elbow, mostly as an excuse to touch him. He admired his form, licking his lips. “You’re a natural,” he said. “Is there anything you can’t do?” he quipped with a smirk, licking his lips.

“I suppose there is at least one thing. I cannot let you go, nor would I desire to,” Hannibal offered, grinning back at Will. The doctor was a quick study, always had been, but he’d not caught a fish just yet. That would be the real telling of it. He enjoyed Will’s hands on him though, so he let his posture slouch for a moment, hoping his beauty would see it as an opportunity to right his stance.

Long slender fingers skated down his back to Hannibal’s waist and the back up to his shoulders to pull them back. “Just a bit straighter, and then,” he added, moving down over his ass a little too deliberately and the inside of his thighs. “Just a bit wider,” he said with a smirk, knowing it was a little unnecessary but indulging himself while his hands were busy with the pole. Keen blue eyes could see a few fish circling near the bait. “Your instinct will be to tip the end up, but keep it down, lower, and don’t pull up if you feel them bite,” he said, pressed against Hannibal’s back and speaking into his ear. He smiled and kissed the warm skin of his neck softly, knowing it might test Hannibal’s patience to remain still and not take control.

Test, it did. The doctor’s lips curled into a little snarl, a quiet growl vibrating through him. He wanted to let the pole go, turn around, and fuck Will right there in the stream, but he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed, and nodded once, doing as he was instructed, his cock pressing hard against his waders and jeans. There was something utterly beautiful about the moment, and he found he was enjoying himself more than he’d thought. It was a testament to just how strong their connection was, and how he enjoyed himself with Will. “As a rule, I encourage myself to give in to my primal instincts, however in the case I shall refrain.”

Will chuckled darkly, finding himself enjoying Hannibal’s torment a bit more than he would have thought. There was something a little sadistic about it, he could very nearly taste his arousal. “Well, we need dinner tonight, and right now I think you might be successful on your first try. Beginner’s luck and all that, hmm?” Will purred, his hand sliding to the front of Hannibal’s pants and finding that thick, hard cock snaking down his pant leg. He squeezed and rubbed slowly, just enough to torment the man a little further.

Hannibal was tormented indeed, but alas, he enjoyed the chaos, the tease, and knew it would only evolve into a sweet payoff later. He stayed still though, letting Will rub him, his cock throbbing and leaking. It was poignant, the spark they had, and he knew that they both felt it. No questions or guessing now. “Ah yes, the infamous beginners luck,”  the elegant doctor began, only to be stopped by the tug of his line, just as Will had predicted. “It would appear as though I’ve got a nibble.”

Will was about to make a double entendre, but didn’t want to lose the fish. He moved behind Hannibal, gripping the rod and guiding him through the process, reeling the creature in towards them. Sure enough, they got it, and Will took the thrashing creature from Hannibal, taking care of getting it in the ice. “I told you you were a natural, Will said as he bent over the bucket, piling ice a top so it could stay cold.

Hannibal made his way over to Will and pressed against his backside, gripping his hips after he set the rod down on the river bank. It was his turn to tease, and torment. Slowly, he ground his groin against the swell of his beloved’s ass, his hands covering him and roving. Just as soon as he’d started though, he quit, grinning to himself. “Yes.. I suppose I am indeed, Will.”

Will bit his lip and remained in position as he felt Hannibal grope him, loving it. He’d never been so physical before with a lover, so almost continuously horny. He knew he’d have it coming when he leaned into the older man just as he pulled away. “Hannibal….” the whoned whisper came. He stood, rebaiting the hook. “Well, I suppose it’s my turn now. “ he said, casting his line out in a single graceful motion, the line arcing through the air beautifully.

“Yes,” Hannibal all but whispered, in awe of Will’s form, both in technique and body. He wrapped his arms around him, keeping watch so that he didn’t impede his fishing, but couldn’t resist slipping his hand under the baggy waders to grasp his beloved’s jean covered cock. Firmly, he gripped, breathing on the empath’s neck as his chin rested on his shoulder. “Most impressive, William.”

“Ahhh,” Will hissed, realizing this was most definitely payback, and wasn’t altogether uncalled for. “H-h-h-h-hannibal,” he stuttered, sweating to keep a firm grip on his pole. “I suppose I deserve this then,” he whispered unsteadily.  

“Mm… even Steven, I believe is the expression,” Hannibal rasped, grinning and then nipped at Will’s neck, licking the sweat there. Succulent. He did so enjoy hearing Will say his name like that though, so he gripped again, tracing his length through those jeans. “Do you think you can catch your fish, the way I have you caught, and in my grasp, hm?”

Will’s breath came out in a shaky, long exhale, swallowing as he felt a tug on the line. The fish were as responsive as his dick, it seemed, he thought to himself. “I can feel one right now, caught on my lure. Fuck, Hannibal,” Will cursed, a bead of pre come dampening and spreading through the fabric of his briefs and beneath his fly. His cock filled the last bit and he reeled the fish in, parting his legs and trying to stand steady in the stream, gooseflesh raised on the delicate skin at the base of his neck.

Hannibal was quite pleased with Will’s response, and despite the smell of fish and water around them, he could detect the precome. His keen nose lended him that, and he flared his nostrils, his own cock twitching inside his jeans. “Mm yes, you are an excellent fisherman, Will.” He leaned forward then, running his tongue up the nape of Will’s neck, catching the sweat there, and then moved off completely.

As Hannibal moved, the fish arched out of the water in a great spray of water, and Will braced himself, wrestling the line in until he had him. A grin finally broke out over his features, pure joy on his face. “I got him!” he cried out gleefully, securing the trout in their ice bucket and walking out of the river towards the shore. “Dinner is secured,” he said as he turned to Hannibal, setting the receptacle on the rocks and bending down to pull off his waders.

Hannibal smiled and gladly took off his waders, delighted to see Will so happy. “Yes, we each caught one, which is more than perfect for our supper,” he said, winking at him. He walked closer, and when Will was free of his waders and upright, the doctor kissed him soundly, pressing their bodies close together.

Will sighed with need, a little moan spilling from his lips, and he slipped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, weaving his fingers in silky strands of hair. “Hannibal,” he started looking in his eyes. “It means so much to me to have you share this with me. I know it’s not your thing, and I appreciate it,” he said thoughtfully.

“It is not something I would have thrust myself into on my own whim no,” Hannibal smiled, holding Will’s gaze. He thumbed along his jawline, tracing the structure of his perfect face with a lick of his lips. “However, doing so with you, seeing it through your eyes, has given me elation in limitless measure. The act itself holds value to me because it does to you, Will.”

“As always, you have a way with words like none other. A dark beast with a silver tongue.  _ My  _ beast,” he said possessively, tilting his head and biting at the doctor’s full bottom lip. “Let’s get back to the house before I scandalize the fish with what I have a mind for, eh?” he said with a saucy smirk, blue eyes flashing with mirth.

“Perhaps this beast would very much enjoy seeing what is in that beautiful mind,” Hannibal rasped, but he could wait until they got to Will’s house if nothing else. Still, there was something about being in the wild, outdoors, and of course the doctor had thought to bring a little vial of lubricant for just such an occasion. “Or taste you with my silver tongue, bring out your beast so that they may dance together.”

“Quite the skilled, talented tongue you have. You can certainly have your fill of me, you know that. I’m yours. All yours,” Will smiled darkly, looking up at Hannibal through thick lashes.

That was more beautiful than any piece Hannibal had heard before. Will was all his. He pulled him close again, kissing him soundly, sliding his tongue with his beloved’s slowly. “And I am all yours. I would gladly take you here. Now. However, I do not wish to starve you either.”

“Well, even though you’re not wearing your best clothes, they’re still nice and I wouldn’t want to wreck them. Come on,” he beckoned the older man, pulling down on his beanie and picking up the bucket. “Grab my tackle box, would you mind?”

“I would not mind at all, Mylimasis.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

They got back to the house where Will started gutting and preparing the fish, newspaper spread over the kitchen counter as he worked. Long slim fingers held firm to the knife wrist twisting just right to perform the job and clean the fish quickly and perfectly. Hannibal watched with awe, setting the table, and then once Will was done, he prepared it to perfection. They ate, and once they’d finished, sipped on a white wine together, plates cleared.

“That was quite enjoyable, Will.”

Will sauntered over lazily to the refined looking man. He’d cleaned up since their outing, showered and changed into grey wool slacks and a red button up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows revealing his tanned, muscular forearms. Will too had changed, wearing a dark blue henley shirt and a clean pair of khakis. He slipped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, looking up at him adoringly. “ _ You’re _ quite enjoyable, you know.”

“As are you,” Hannibal smiled, gazing down at Will. The blue brought out his eyes, which lured him in all the more. He knew he was lucky that the empath was only his; the cannibal destroy anyone who tried to take him from him. “Undeniably so, in fact. I find I crave you more than the rarest of wines, or the more succulent of sins.”  

The brunet pushed Hannibal against the wall, running long fingers up his chest and standing on tip toes to mouth at his ear. “Your way with words really gets me in the mood, Doctor. No one puts things quite as beautifully as you do. And it makes me…..very hot,” he purred, grazing his teeth down Hannibal’s neck. “Very.”

Hannibal gripped Will’s shoulder, clutching to the muscle there, in a gesture that might have had a hint of desperation in it. Rare for the beast, but beasts could love, and that was exactly the case here. The good doctor did not want anyone else to have  _ his _ Will. Not in any form or capacity, nor with any reason. It had been why he’d been working on alienating him from Jack. His blood ran hot, his cock throbbing as he sniffed a snarl of arousal. “I’m very hot, Will, and you have my attention, my affection, love, and desire. Do you understand just how much you mean to me? How I would defend you and our union?” He finished the question with a possessive kiss, his tongue seeking hungrily, longingly to claim what was his once more.

Will met his kisses with equal hunger, their teeth clashing and tongues chasing one another as he responded to the older man’s hands all over him. He pushed his knee between Hannibal’s thighs, grinding against him slowly. “Maybe you should show me, Doctor Lecter? My memory isn’t so good. Who knows what you do with your other patients,” he jested teasingly, twining his fingers into silvery brown locks.

“Are you my patient, Will?” Hannibal asked, seeing as Will had said ‘other’. He grinned coyly, but there was a darkness in his eyes, a dangerous love that promised pain at any hint of betrayal. It would be unbearable. His mind always ran on many trains of thought, amusement always being one, but now there was another that was dedicated to the empath. What would be the destination? The cannibal was eager to find out. Back onto the main track for the moment, he gripped Will’s ass, kneading there, then flipped them, pressing Will against the wall, pinning his wrists above his head as he kissed down his neck. With his teeth, he undid the first few buttons of his shirt, mouthing over his chest. “What I do with you now, I do with no other. I will show you, again and again.”

“Ahhh,” Will gasped, arching his body and leaning into Hannibal’s touch. “I love the way you...handle me...knowing everything, what will...make me respond to you. You know what I want before I want it,” he whispered, adoring the kind of careful attention the man gave him, keenly attuned to every molecule of his being it seemed. Hannibal drove him wild, brought out of part of him he’d never know he possessed before. “Show me….show me all of it, Hannibal…”

“Mm. Yes, Mylimasis. Very well,” Hannibal rumbled, and released Will’s wrists the finish undoing his shirt, and then slipped his belt through the loops, taking down his pants. When Will was nude, he undressed also, keeping hungry eyes on stormy blues, kissing him again. He licked back down his body, stopping to take a pert nipple in his mouth as deft fingers worked his shaft over. “I will know the flavor of every inch of your body, Will. It is a taste distinct and sweet, powerful, and ripe with potential. Turn around and place your palms on the wall, and arch your back, please.”

Will had always been a shy lover before Hannibal. He’d never felt particularly great about his looks or form, but the Doctor made him feel as though he were a work of art, sexy and wanted. He did as Hannibal asked, palms flat on the wall, and arched his back so his ass popped out, parting his thighs enough to allow him to do anything he desired. Casting a coquettish look over his shoulder, he smiled saucily, putting on a bit of an act for effect. “Like this, Doctor Lecter?” he asked coyly.

Hannibal suppressed a growl, and let his hands rove down Will’s back as he kneeled. He stopped at his ass, and gave one a firm smack, rubbing afterwards then parted his cheeks. “Yes…” he husked, his tone rough with desire and want. Without warning, he ran his tongue from Will’s balls, to his entrance, inhaling the scent of musk with notes of at least three other things he could detect. It was perfect, and sweet, uniquely Will. A beautiful song, certainly. Pulling back to finish his thought, he licked his lips. “Precisely like that, my beauty.”

“Ohhh f-f-f-f-f-f-fuck,” Will drawled out, the hot wet muscle sliding over his already aching balls sent waves of arousal up his spine and down his legs. Muscular thighs widened in his stance to accommodate all the older man may have had in mind to do. “God, that feels so good. Get me ready for your cock, Hannibal,” he whispered in a heated plea.

Hearing Will speak so lewdly ignited a fire in the beast's belly, and he began to feed ravenously with another a deep rumbling growl. He circled his rim, and pushed his tongue in, his large, veiny hands gripping possessively into his plush cheeks. He removed one finally, and snaked it under and up to the profiler’s cock, starting to stroke with skilled fingers. Doctor Lecter wanted Will to come entirely undone, to lose all inhibition and blur with him into an erotic utopia all their own.

Will’s palms slipped on the wall, but he tried to keep them in place obediently under the pleasurable assault of Hannibal’s tongue. The penetration made him keen with want, head thrown back and moaning without shame. His cock bobbed heavily between his spread thighs, dripping as he humped the air fruitlessly. “Oh god, it’s so good, gods…’

Hannibal continued stroking Will’s cock as he speared him open with his tongue; he finally stood after a few minutes, and turned him around to kiss walk him over to Will’s desk, where the lures were once made. They stopped when Will’s ass hit the desk and the doctor licked down to his neck, biting there. “Do you want me to take you, Will? Right over this desk, hm?”

“Yes, Hannibal. God yes, please,” Will begged, his head sagging back and to the side to allow the doctor all the space he needed. “Take me, mark me, make me yours,” he begged.

Hannibal reached over and grabbed the lubricant bottle from nearby, and slicked up his fingers. He hiked up Will’s leg, and exposed his pucker, inserting one finger, then two, twisting his wrist to brush over the pleasure nub inside him. “You  _ are _ mine,” he snarled, then bit at Will’s adam’s apple, sucking there. He moved next to his carotid artery, and ran his tongue there to feel his pulse. “All mine.”

Will gasped at the invasion and threw his head back, arching into Hannibal’s hands and moaning long and low as tendrils of pleasure travelled up his spine. His cock throbbed and dripped as Hannibal worked him open, body become more lax and compliant with every thrust. He was keening wantonly, and it never ceased to shock him how willing Hannibal made him. “Oh fuck me, fuck me, Hannibal…”

Hannibal pulled his fingers out and slicked up his cock, hiking Will’s leg up and around his waist. He braced one palm on the desk, and the other angled his cock just before he thrust in slowly. The doctor started to build a considerable, carnal rhythm right away, grunting and snapping his hips as he fucked Will into a proverbial oblivion. “Is this to your liking?” he growled out the words, and licked into his lover’s mouth.

Panting hard, Will dug blunt fingernails into Hannibal’s biceps. “Ah...ah...ahh...yes, don’t...don’t stop,” he begged, spread his legs wider to get Hannibal as deep as he could. Strong legs held onto the Doctor’s broad, muscular form, ankles locking behind his back as he bucked into him.

“I do not intend on stopping,” Hannibal moaned, sweat starting to form over his tawny skin in a fine sheen. He whipped his hips harder, balls slapping against Will’s ass as wet squelching noises filled the room. There was something so obscene about doing this in the place where his beloved used to dwell. “Ah, Will… you feel sublime.”

Will knew every time he walked in this office he was going to imagine this very scene in vivid detail- sprawled out across the desk, with the powerful, sexy man fucking him within an inch of his life. His cock slapped against his belly, and he reached between them to stroke himself. He thumbed over the slit, spreading pre come down his shaft as he gripped and tugged himself faster.

Hannibal gingerly moved Will’s hand away, a stark contrast to how hard he was fucking him. He took over stroking his cock, not wanting the empath to derive any pleasure from any other source other than the doctor himself. In time he worked his shaft, and drove into him in sync, wanting him to come first before he found his own release. After a few moments, he pulled out, and pushed Will over the desk, ass out, and gripped his hips to sink back in. “Will-”

“Ahhh...” Will moaned at the changed angle, eyes wide open as he turned to look over his shoulder and watch. Hannibal looked positively feral, pounding him like a beast, lips curled into a snarl and hair hanging in his face. “Oh Hannibal, oh fuck, yes…you’re going to...ahh you’re going to make me come...”

Hannibal growled deeper, bending his knees to tap right against Will’s sweet spot. He leaned over his back, kissing his lover’s mouth from the side, covering him in a carnal mounting type position. He knew this way his beloved’s cock would receive friction, and he would come without needing to slip a hand there. “Give in to me, Will, let go and fall with me into the vast ocean of our desire.”

Will felt everything else melt away, his heart possessed entirely by his beloved. Never before and he knew never again would he feel so complete as this “I don’t know where I end and you begin, Hannibal. You’ve bound me so entirely to you. I’ve never known myself as well as I do with you,” he huffed out, hands clinging to the desk in an effort to stay put as Hannibal slammed him further and further up the polished wood’s surface with each hard, staccato slap of skin against skin.

“We’re conjoined, eternally tethered, my love,” Hannibal rumbled, his own orgasm building. He  continued thrusting, sweat making them glide a bit easier, and he licked to Will’s nape, as he slid a hand under him to stroke his cock. He went faster still, unable to speak now, and bit down on his lover’s neck, popping skin as he did all he could to hold on.

The bite broke what little control Will had left. The sting of fangs through flesh and the subsequent drip of blood caused him to convulse, his cock jerking, and hot seed spilled over Hannibal’s hand, across the desk. “Hannibal…!” he gaped and writhed, his body spasming in orgasm, hips bucking back against the doctor’s body.

“Will….!” Hannibal groaned, his body lost to the throes of passion, both by himself, and Will’s. He came then, licking the spend from his hand that his lover had left, then licked into his mouth to share as his hips snapped wildly, milky fluid filling the empath up to the brim. It was profoundly beautiful.

The brunet shared the taste on his tongue; there was a time he may have been shocked by his own behavior, but that time had come and gone. With Hannibal he’d found an unlocked well of kinky insatiability, one where there was no shame and nothing but hedonistic pleasure. “Oh fuck, Hannibal,” he panted, sweat covering his skin in a glistening sheen.

Hannibal kissed Will again, then his neck, and shoulders before getting up to procure a cleansing wipe from the drawer. He wiped Will cleaned, gentle in his ministrations, and helped him upright. Aftercare, as it were, and he wanted to do so, even if he thought it might make his beloved blush a bit. “Absolutely delightful, Mylimasis.”

And blush he did, the apples of his cheeks darkening; he was certainly not used to being so doted upon, however he was becoming slightly more accustomed to it with Hannibal. “Thank you, Hannibal...you’re pretty amazin’ yourself.” Will stretched out, flexing his muscles and groaning with satisfaction. He leaned back on the desk a minute before looking to retrieve his clothes. “We should spend the night on the boat if we can. Be nice to sleep under the stars, out on the open water. Sleep and...other things,” he said with a wry grin. He pulled his briefs up his muscular legs and then his trousers.

“I am glad you think so,” Hannibal smiled, watching Will as he pulled his boxers and pants on again as well. He ran fingers through his hair, straightening it up. Will was utterly breathtaking, but more than his physique, his mind was what drew the good doctor in. “Yes, I believe it will be quite a nostalgic event. Perhaps we should drink to it, yes?”

“Yes, we should. Then we still have to christen this fishing vessel you got me. I can’t wait to see it,” Will said with a coy smile.

“Eager for me again so soon?” Hannibal smiled back, over Will’s lips before he kissed him again. “That we shall, and know that I am quite insatiable for you as well.”

“You know I’m a glutton for you. I love you, Hannibal,” Will said then, his face and eyes turning more serious, sincere and full in his heart. Never had he trusted anyone so much as he did this man. He had trusted him with his life, and more, his heart. 

“And I love you. As for your gluttony, we are both sinners in the eyes of God, then,” Hannibal responded, stroking Will’s jaw as he gazed at him with worshipful awe and curiosity. Those words from Will never ceased to amaze him, as well as hit him right in his heart. “There is no other with whom I would enjoy committing a deadly sin with, Will.” A little hint to the monster beneath the person suit, just waiting to emerge and dance with his beloved, revel in a shared darkness.

Buttoning up his shirt and donning his jacket, Will paused, licking his lips as he returned the heated look the Doctor gave him. He thought he saw something darker there, shadows behind his eyes, plumes of darkness curling up behind him. It didn’t frighten him, rather he found it exciting, intriguing, and he only wanted more. “For tonight, perhaps just sailing, and non-deadly sins, hmm?” he chuckled.

“Ah but one has already been committed as I’ve stated. Gluttony.” Hannibal winked, smoothing out Will’s jacket, then kissed his jaw, grinning. He readied himself as well, glad he’d left an outfit over at Will’s house before so he had been able to change tonight from those horrid jeans. It was a good day though, and had turned into an even better night. “But I… promise to behave myself, if only for tonight. Shall we?”

Heading out the door, Will laughed, and grabbed a bottle of wine on his way out. “For the christening. And no need to behave. Let’s not get crazy, now,” he said, grinning at Hannibal, and he locked the door behind him as they headed out and to Hannibal’s vehicle. .

The boat was already stocked with some items, wine, whiskey, and champagne included, but Hannibal was pleased to see Will grab one of his choosing. He smiled, chuckling deeply, and placed his broad palm on the small of his back as they walked. Once they were there, he opened the door to his Bentley for Will, then got in next, buckling up and backing out. With look of mirth, Hannibal turned onto the road, to head towards town. “Misbehaving is acceptable as long as it does not include one of the aforementioned deadly sins? Where is the line drawn there, Will?”

Oh Hannibal and his overthinking, Will though with amusement to himself. Heck if he even knew what he was talking about now, and he leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. “The line is drawn perhaps at lifeless corpses, eh? Gluttony, lust - well, those are good deadly sins. I think tonight I’ll just focus on the good ones. The fun ones, hmm?” Will chuckled, his voice a little rough.

“I would prefer lifeless corpses to animated ones. Then we would have quite the apocalyptic scene on our hands, would we not?” Hannibal joked, wanting to veer away from the seriousness of murder...for now. He looked over at Will as he drove, when he could, his eyes trailing down the long column of his throat at a redlight. The doctor reached out to rub Will’s thigh. “Yes, only the lesser of the evils with the sinning tonight, Mylimasis.”

“Always room for more,” Will smiled, licking his own lips slowly and placing his hand atop Hannibal’s, which made the Lithuanian hum.

The drive back north to Baltimore was quiet, and before long they were pulling up to the marina where Hannibal had docked the vessel. Will got out, hands in his pockets, chin up and smelling the cool night air, Hannibal right with him. The sun had set and the stars were out, and it was the perfect night to get out on the water. “Lead the way, Doctor,” he said flirtatiously.  

Hannibal wanted to take Will’s hand, but he wasn’t sure how he’d respond to the public display - even if there were but only a few lonely fisherman about, and a pair of lovers. Would he squirm? Ah but there was no better way to know. He took his hand, lacing their fingers as they strolled, shoes clacking on the wooden dock. “It’s the last boat at the end, just over there,” he gestured, smiling over at Will.

Will leaned into him, finding the contact comforting. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care if anyone saw them, and while he normally preferred to be unnoticed, that was part of who he used to be, not who he was now. Hannibal had made him feel more confident, simply from how he cherished him and really showed him love. He nestled his palm closer to Hannibal, enjoying the warmth, and looked over to where he gestured. “Have you named it?”

“Not yet, Mylimasis. I thought you should be the one to give it its name,” Hannibal smiled, also enjoying the presence of Will at his side as the cool air wafted over them. He could smell the water, the fish, pine in the distance, and mostly, his beautiful cunning boy at his side. They approached the boat, and he gestured for Will to walk aboard first, very eager to hear his thoughts on the vessel. “After you, hm?”

Will boarded the vessel, running his rough hands over the smooth fiberglass and admiring it. He hopped over the rail and strolled across the deck like it was second nature. He gripped the boom, a smile on his face like a kid at Christmas. “Hannibal, this is amazing. May I?”he asked, turning the wheel and setting it in preparation to undock. Will was too excited to wait, and wanted to set sail right away.

“It is yours to guide, Will. Yes, please,” Hannibal smiled, handing him the keys, as well as an envelope from his coat pocket that had the paperwork there. He was very happy that his beloved approved of the vessel. The doctor had procured the finest sailing yacht he could acquire, nothing but the best for Will, and furthermore, he thought it would make for an excellent escape method, should they need to run away sometime soon.

Will went to work immediately, undocking the vessel, starting the engine and unfurling the sails, and soon they were out of the harbor and well into the Chesapeake Bay, the chilly air bringing a blush out in Will’s cheeks. When he’d set the controls and they were far enough that he didn’t need to steer manually, he decided a tour of below deck was in order. “Show me the rest, Hannibal,” he asked warmly, kissing the older man’s cheek.

Hannibal had just walked back out, and offered Will a glass of champagne, in a beautiful, tall flute. He turned and kissed his lips. “Of course,” he said, and then clinked their glasses together gently, taking a sip before taking his hand and leading him below deck so that he could look at the inside. He hoped he liked it, it was elegant, but also with the small flair here and there that he thought Will might enjoy.

The entire room was comprised of elegant, gleaming cherry wood and plush, crimson cushions lined the seating. “It’s decadent. It’s gorgeous, Hannibal,” Will marveled and raised his glass, touching it to the doctor’s. “To us, and to many adventures to come on this magnificent vessel,” he smiled.

“Yes, to us,” Hannibal smiled, and took another sip, eyeing Will as he did. The boat rocked gently, a cool breeze wafting into the cabin and off the water as the sound of the waves knocking against the boat filled the room in a beautiful melody. “I love you, Will, Happy Valentine’s day. Beyond his day, know that there is likely nothing I would not do for you.”

“You’ve more than proven that. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you either, Hannibal.” Will’s nose tickled at the carbonation and he laughed. “We could get in a lot of trouble in a boat like this. Now I just have to come up with a name…”

With a dark grin, Hannibal nodded, mirth swimming in his eyes like all the wondrous fish in the sea below them. He leaned in and kissed him once more, acknowledging the first thing spoken, canting his head at the second. “What is normal to the spider is chaos to the fly, Will. What trouble do you envision us engaging in, hm? Will that have any bearing on how you choose to name this magnificent vessel?”

“Well what about  _ The Beast _ ? She feels a lot like an animal. An elegant animal on the open water, a mighty predator. A steed I’ll ride into the dark of night to catch our dinner,” Will chuckled with a wry, sassy grin.

Hannibal tugged Will to him, minding their drinks, and then set his down, as well as his beloved’s. “The only steed I wish you to ride is me, Will,” he said, being a little bit more lewd with his wording than usual, but that sassy grin brought it out of him. “However, yes, The Beast is fitting indeed.”

Will hummed into Hannibal’s chest, one hand curling into his shirt and the other sliding around his back. “Maybe I just it would look kinda badass on the hull. I could dress like a pirate and fly a Jolly Roger.” He paused dramatically before breaking into a gleeful laugh. “I’m kidding, of course,” he joked. Again, another thing he’d not been comfortable with in forever - relaxing and laughing this way. He felt Hannibal was his home, his refuge, completely safe. The brunet took another sip of champagne. Perhaps it was getting to his head faster than the whiskey ever did.

“Fortunately, you aren’t serious. I might have to eat that overzealous tongue of yours were you serious, hm?” Hannibal grinned, and took a sip from his flute again, then set it back down, winking at Will. He took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’ve yet to show you your sleeping quarters. Shall we?”

Will laughed again - he liked the offbeat sense of humor Hannibal had. The man always seemed to be making weird jokes like that, and Will took it as just simply his charming way. “I think that is exactly where I was hoping the night would take us, hmm?” Will said, setting his empty glass down in the kitchen and pulling his pants tight across his ass as he looked back playfully at the handsome older man.

Hannibal eyed Will’s ass as he finished his champagne, and then licked his lips, meeting his beauty’s eyes. “Mm, then it seems as though we both had our sights on the same thing,” he said, his lisp thicker with arousal, and yet still deep as he stalked after the empath. He gripped Will’s hips when he reached him, staying behind the brunet to press his trouser clad groin against that perfect bubble shaped posterior, walking him to the bedroom. “I am going to devour you whole, Mylimasis,” he growled lowly against the shell of his perfect ear.

“If you made love to me every damn night, I’d still be insatiable for you, Hannibal,” Will exhaled, pressing back into him. They entered the luxurious bedroom, and Will was already unbuttoning and untucking his shirt quickly, Hannibal doing the same, it was going to be a night to remember.


	6. Chapter 6

Hannibal had travelled out of town for the weekend, attending a Psychiatric convention, and Will was left to his own devices to entertain himself. He had at first thought he might go to Wolf Trap, do some fishing, but decided at the last minute to stay in. The weather wasn’t the greatest for it, and he thought instead he might try and do some culinary experimentation and try to make some dishes, maybe impress his handsome doctor with his cooking prowess. He’d managed to pick up some skills here and there from watching Hannibal all the time. The doctor had even suggested he might do it, try his hand at a few different things. If they turned out good, he could prepare them for one of Hannibal’s dinner parties. The idea excited him. 

It was that reason that he found himself going down to the cellar. Hannibal had a few extra freezers down there, wine repository, all manner of goodies, and he never really had a chance to poke around much.

Descending the stairs he tugged the light on and made his way through the storage cabinets and shelves, to the freezer, when he saw something he hadn’t noticed before. In fact he was sure he’d never seen it. One of the freezers had a lock on it, a very heavy combination lock. Will

crouched down to give it a closer look and noticed it was open, which was odd. Hannibal was always very careful, and it seemed strange that if he’d bothered to put a lock on one of the freezer cases, he’d leave it open like this. But, perhaps he’d been distracted, his phone rang, who knew. Shrugging, Will removed the lock and pulled open the door.

Neatly wrapped cuts of meat wrapped in freezer bags lined the inside, Letters and numbers on the outside of each bag in Hannibal’s impeccable handwriting, likely indicating particular cuts and the dates they were frozen. Will was beginning to wonder why on earth Hannibal would have kept this freezer locked, until his hand landed on one particular bag.

_ “R.T. 02/18/17” _

Will’s blood ran cold when he saw it and he knew what it was.

It was Randall.

Picking up the other bags and scanning the initials and dates on all of them, a sickening realization came over him. The initials, the dates, the organs...all lined up with one thing. The case with which he’d become intimately familiar with.   

The Chesapeake Ripper.

Will fell backwards stumbling away from the freezer and falling to the ground. Everything felt wrong. His stomach lurched violently as he felt the bile rise up, and he puked all over the cement floor. Yanking his glasses off, he could feel himself hyperventilating, the crushing pain in his chest, and he knew he had to get out of there.

He made it up the stairs to the kitchen sink where he splashed cold water over his face and finally sat down, mind racing. This was the man he loved. The man he’d given all his trust to, his heart, his everything. He’d risked his own freedom for him when Will had killed Tier.

But he kept the meat. Trophies. Livers, lungs, kidneys, hearts, all down there, neatly cataloged. Every organ missing from the victims. He’d been feeding them to him this whole time.

He was a monster.

Will knew enough about the cases to know each victim’s story, how they died, what had been missing. He felt like someone had ripped his heart from his chest and gutted him, all in one act.

Will sat there blankly, staring at his hands for too long. He couldn’t possibly stay. He couldn’t live with Hannibal like this, knowing what he knew and trying to act as though he didn’t. Hannibal would see right through it. How could he even look him in the eye again? Questions raged in his mind like a wildfire. How could this happen? How could he have been so blind? How could a man who’d been so tender and loving be the same person who hunted these people down, killed them, ate them?

He had to leave. He didn’t know what else to do.

And so that same night, he packed up as little as he could manage and left, driving south to Florida. Hannibal knew all the places he’d go, and he didn’t know how the man would react to him simply leaving without a word. He didn’t stop driving until he hit a coastal town, the middle of nowhere, hot and disgustingly humid. He stocked up on booze, did some fishing, and set about trying his fucking best to forget he ever knew Hannibal Lecter.

***

A debate. Should he go after Will? Make him pay for his sins? His betrayal? Hannibal had intentionally let him know him, see him, having left that freezer to where his beloved could find out who the beast beyond the elegant person suit was and he'd left. It hurt more than the doctor cared to admit. He decided that in the end it was best to go, knowing that leaving him would likely be the best way to inflict damage - that and he couldn't bare the thought of killing him, even if he would have savored him for weeks to come.

Hannibal cleaned the house of all evidence, packed what he needed only, and then booked a flight. He couldn't risk staying in case Will had decided to talk to Uncle Jack. It was a daunting flight, but as always, the doctor made the best of it, sipping wine in first class, no holding back there. He wiped his hand over his face, a symbol of the removal of the mask melting away with the slowly leaking blood in his heart. It was broken, Will had seen to that, and all there was now was to start again.

Once he arrived in Florence, he got settled in, having considered a stop in France, but perhaps he'd visit there soon enough. He procured a motorcycle, changing his look, as well as his name, just in case, and got settled into his posh villa near the water. It was beautiful there, and he laid low with killing... for now. At the moment his sights were set on a curator position at the Caponi library. It would be earned on his merit though, once he'd insured the position was available. Each night though, when he laid down, his thoughts were filled with chocolate curls, stormy blue eyes, and the soft lips of Will Graham.

***

No connections. That was Will’s only real goal in his new little life. He’d found a small town on Gasparilla Island in southwest Florida, where there was a good supply of game for fishing, and found work repairing boat motors near the local marina. After his first few customers, he quickly gained a reputation for being skilled and not charging much for his work. He was quiet, kept to himself, spending his nights on the beach, watching the water and trying to dull the intense pain at the bottom of a bottle.

He could feel himself slipping away, fading with every passing night. The only way he could block the memories was booze, and he’d grown so depressed he even began to fantasize about ending his life. It was then that he knew he had to make a choice and try to save himself. Maybe being around people would help. That was the night he wandered into town and made his way into a tiny watering hole, figuring he’d at least be safe from his own self-loathing and heartbreak if he forced himself to be in public.

It was a run down dive bar that looked more like a hurricane-ravaged shack. He huddled in a corner at the end of the bar, and was three bourbons into his night when he felt the air shift beside him from someone climbing up on the stool nearby.

“Was it a dog or a girl?” came the soft, feminine voice. He turned to look and saw a cherub-faced blonde, long bangs hanging over a pair of very sad, tired blue eyes.

“Uh, neither. Sorry, I’m not very good company,” he muttered shortly, hoping she’d just move on.

“You lost someone. No one drinks like that with that dead look on your face without having lost someone.”

Will ignored her, sipping from his glass and hoping she’d get the hint. She didn’t.

“I’m Molly.”

He looked at her with great irritation, meeting her gaze head on. “I’m not very good company,  _ Molly,” _ he said with finality.

She ordered a drink from the barkeep and smirked at him. “I’m not very good company either, but what the hell else do you have to lose? Not much, from the looks of it,” she said sardonically.

Will observed her. Youthfulness in her face, yet bitterness mixed with fearlessness. It worked up his senses, how easily he could read people, and he got from this woman that she’d survived something. He became curious.

“Will,” he said simply.

***

A few weeks passed, and he was dating Molly. It was rather a strange relationship, two lonely, broken people just sort of trying to prop each other up, and it was by no means healthy, and certainly didn’t come close to filling the hole in his heart left by Hannibal. She had come from a bad past herself, a single mother raising a boy alone, divorced from a terribly abusive man. Neither had any illusions about what they were doing. It wasn’t young love; it wasn’t really even love. Both were fighting crippling emptiness, just trying to live in a cold world that had chewed them up and spit them out.

Before he knew it, a few months had gone by since he’d left Hannibal, and he’d moved into Molly’s home with her and her son. There were no family photos on the walls, no albums but for Walter’s baby pictures here and there. Walter, the boy, took to him shockingly fast. As it turned out his mother hadn’t actually dated anyone since his dad, and he was a serious, lonely kid that reminded Will a lot of himself when he was young.

And so, he played house with them, drinking barely less than he did alone, but at least having the warmth of human companionship in her and Walter. Molly was simple, uncomplicated, easy to sit in silence with, no drama or demands. He treated her kindly, he didn’t beat her; that was enough of an upgrade from her ex for her. But, if Will was being honest with himself, life had become maddeningly polite. The thrumming in his chest of the animal beating its wings to get out remained chained in complacency, and a night didn’t go by when his last thought wasn’t a vision of Hannibal’s sharp features, full lips, and honey eyes.

***

Hannibal thought of Will constantly, he always had one very prominent train of thinking devoted solely to him but he also had the matter of becoming curator in mind - along with other things he was attending to. In the spirit of the aforementioned, he'd decided to attend a soiree, or ball, in France, with hopes of achieving just that. As he sipped his champagne, he noticed from his periphery, a man watching him, as he watched Doctor Roman Fell. He turned, to see a man who reminded him of a very posh version of Will Graham. Not as handsome, but the blue eyes, beard, and a little bit of the hair was there, granted with more gray but it very much made his heart beat a bit faster.

The man walked up to him, a smile plastered on his face, holding a flute of his own.

"His books are  _ awfully _ dreadful," he said, bringing the flute to his lips.

Hannibal just quirked a small smile.

"I'm Anthony Dimmond, and you _ know _ I'm right," the other said, as Hannibal continued to watch him.

"Lloyd Closter," Hannibal introduced, not giving his real name of course.

"A pleasure. Tell you what, just blink if you agree with me, hm?"

Hannibal blinked, just once, smirking subtly.

"There we are. See? That wasn't terribly inconvenient now was it, Mister Closter?"

"Why is it that you find his works so dreadful, Mister Dimmond?"

"Please," Anthony said, his english accent crisp and ripe with coy undertones, eyes dilated as he gazed at the handsome doctor in his black leather attire. He himself was in black trousers, a long coat and beautiful scarf, "Call me Anthony. May I call you Lloyd?"

"You may."

"I find him boring and overrated, as most of those who know him do, that and I compose poetry myself, even if takes me six months to even write one line. But let's not talk about him. There are other more interesting matters to which we should converse."

"Oh? What might that be, Anthony?"

"For one...  _ you, _ Lloyd."

Hannibal raised a barely there brow and tipped his glass to Anthony, taking a slow sip.

***

Time passed, and it was ever unfortunate that Doctor Fell ‘ran off with a woman’, before he ever made his appearance at the Caponi Library. The party had been in France, which made it much easier for Hannibal to fill that spot. Most in upper society never cared for what big name was attached to what face, so it was without notice he'd slipped in like a wolf in sheep's clothing. It was needed to blend in with the... sheep.

The only one who  _ had _ noticed was Mister Dimmond himself. Hannibal had waffled between killing and fucking the man into silence; he'd gone with the latter, since he was quite lonely for his long lost beloved. Naturally, it meant nothing, merely good business, and entertainment. Beyond that Anthony did have much in common with Doctor Lecter, at least as far as aesthetics, art, literature, and overall beauty was concerned. He would do for now.

Hannibal quite enjoyed his position at the library and when he wasn't with Anthony or partaking of  _ other _ activities, his work consumed him completely. Still, echoes of the past resounded in his memory palace, most of them speaking the same beautiful name, Will. The doctor's heart was damaged, so perhaps it was time to leave a token of that for the world to see, in a place Will would find it, should he come seeking him out. Remembrance, forgiveness - a Valentine written on a broken man, as it were.

***

“Randy needs to go to the vet and get his nails trimmed. And you got mail,” Molly handed Will a package when he came home one night. They’d adopted a stray, and he felt bad admitting it, but having the big gold mutt had brought him more comfort than any human could really. Dogs just  _ knew _ .

He looked at the outside of the package and they exchanged looks; Molly knew Will had a “complicated” ex, but they never spoke any more of it. No details asked or volunteered. Will didn’t get “letters”, and he knew as soon as he opened the box and saw the elegant, cream colored envelope on textured, heavy paper, it could only be from one person. Later, when it was finally opened, the letter confirmed his thoughts. It read:

_ "Dearest William, _

_ I hope that by now, you've come to understand why I left. I wish it had not come to such a pass, but you rejected who I am, which in turn means you deny yourself. I offered you a rare gift but you didn't want it. I hope, however, that you will enjoy the one I have decided to give in your honor. You once made mention of my smelling you. It is your turn to do that now, should you choose to let go of your new life. Will you stay with the one you have now? Is there any point? _

_ Enclosed in this package is a bottle of, what I hope you shall consider to be an acceptable replacement for the the atrocious aftershave you used to wear, and likely still are. I do hope that your new, ready made family will not mind the gesture. I forgive you, Will, I only hope that you forgive me. _

_ All my love. -H." _

Will examined the postmark; though there was of course no return address, it was from a Palermo, Italy post office. He opened the box, smelling the fragrance. It was cloying, pompous, just like Hannibal, and he swallowed a lump in his throat as he shoved the letter in his back pocket. The balls on that man, after what he’d kept from him, to actually say he forgave  _ him _ . It was of course manipulative, and yet something inside stopped him from throwing the letter, and the cologne, away.

***

A few days passed. Will had his head buried in a boat engine when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“You’re a hell of a hard man to track down, Will.”

Of course, he recognized the voice. Alana Bloom. He grimaced to himself, but didn’t move. “Funny how that works when you don’t want to be.”

“Don’t want to be found? But why? Will, come on. Look at me.”

He turned and when he faced her, looked in her eyes and saw it - fear, concern, relief, anger.

“You want to tell me why the hell you left in such a hurry? And what happened to Hannibal? God, everything was like a goddamn romance novel with you two. Then you both just vanish?”

She walked in front of him, her high heels clacking against the concrete floor sharply. 

“You came all the way down here just to lecture me on my failed fucking relationship? Or what - gloat, because things are so great with you and...what’s her name?” he snapped, angry, frustrated for the old wounds getting exposed again.

“Margot,” Alana interjected defensively.

Will interrupted her and looked her in the eye. “If I wanted to talk about it, Alana, I would have. I’m not bothering anyone. Just leave me be.” Will sighed tiredly. Seeing her again just reminded him of his pain, of the longing, of the ache of both missing Hannibal and being furious with him.

“No one can find him. No one knows where he went or why he left. Do you?” she asked, watching him closely.

“No, I don’t. And it’s not something I really feel comfortable talking about, Alana.” Will shifted his jaw and swallowed hard.

“So, you haven’t been in contact with him at all. Was he cheating on you? What happened, Will? You can’t ask me to turn away; you were my best friend, he was my mentor. I’m just supposed to forget about you both?” Alana was upset now, her blue eyes growing red and wet from the tears she fought back.

Will stood, grabbing a rag from his toolbox and wiping engine grease from his hands. He moved closer, seeking out her gaze with ernest, empathetic eyes. He felt her sadness poignantly, and he softened. “Alana, we broke up. I found out he’d been lying to me. Please don’t ask me for more, okay? It’s….it’s just...I’ve moved on, he’s clearly moved on. You should too.” 

The brunette took a sharp inhale and her eyes lowered to his feet. ”Neither of you said goodbye.” She looked around the garage and then back at him. “Are you - are you happy?”

Will snorted, tossing the rag. “Are any of us?”

Alana sniffled loudly. “You should look for him, Will. Love is hard to find in this world, and everyone’s a liar. It’s just a matter of finding the liars worth forgiving. The ones worth loving.” She moved into his space and wrapped her arms around his stiff form. “Goodbye, Will.”

He watched her silently, relaxing in her hug and finally returning the embrace. “Goodbye, Alana.”  

***

Liars worth loving, indeed.

Several sleepless nights in a row led Will to the only choice he had. He had to go find Hannibal. If nothing else, to slap him for breaking his heart, deceiving him, pretending to share himself completely while hiding something as monumental as he had.

He also just needed to see him with his own eyes again, at least give himself closure.

He made up a story to Molly and Walter, told them he had an uncle who’d passed away, and he needed to sort out the estate. He’d be gone a week, off to Louisiana. With Walter in school and Molly working, they couldn’t join him, of course, by design, and he didn’t want to interrupt their lives.

Why? What drove him to this? The endless nights without sleep, the increased drinking, Molly oblivious in her own fog. Human nature bestows on us the instinct of flight or fight, yet there’s another option so many opt for, one not as readily spoken of simply because it’s the cowards way out: complacency. Some just cloak themselves in a blanket of entropy, allowing time and gravity to pass, having been dead for years. The spirit dies. The sparks dies. One just accepts a conscious death, animated as though existing in the land of the living, yet not feeling anything. No joy, no pain, no love, no hate. Just  _ being _ .

Will felt it crawling over him, overwhelming him, like drowning in the sea. Nothing felt the same; this life was nothing remotely like the thrill of passion he had with Hannibal. The rush when he’d killed Tier. The feeling of complete connectedness and intimate communion he had with this man who was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a predator, a murderer feasting on the flesh of his victims with a carefully constructed, well preserved person suit, fooling everyone, including Will himself.

Was it better to live with a monster? Could he accept Hannibal, and worse, could he look at himself in the mirror knowing not only that the man he loved was this thing, but that he too was one? No, he knew that wasn't true. He was  _ different _ , he was nothing like Hannibal. He’d felt fire in his veins killing Tier, but it was false. It had to be. His empathy was simply transferring Hannibal’s bloodlust to him - it wasn’t authentic. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He had to know for  _ sure _ . He had to find Hannibal.

Will was glad he’d kept the aftershave. A little research led him to the small boutique shop Hannibal had purchased it from. And so, he took a red-eye from Fort Myers to Falcone–Borsellino, right into the heart of Palermo, Italy. It was somewhere in the middle of the next night when he found the cheapest motel he could manage and collapsed in exhaustion, obliterated with emotion and lack of sleep.

***

His first few days in Palermo were strange, as though everywhere he went, he felt echoes of his former mate, shadows and clues and hints all around. It felt wrong to him, like stalking prey, trying to remain hidden and unseen as he rifled through the streets looking for someone he didn’t even know if he wanted to find. And with each new piece of information, he felt farther away and more desperate and angry.

He was in his hotel room, laying back and unable to sleep, and he sat up and reached for the small bottle of whiskey he’d bought at the minimarket down the street. Slowly swishing the smoky fluid around in his mouth, he swallowed, and as the sharp, soothing heat slipped into his belly, he recalled a conversation he’d once had with Hannibal. They’d talked about loss he’d experienced early in life, at a painfully young age, and described how he dealt with grief and pain. He told Will about his “mind palace” - a place in his imagination where he would go when he needed. Whether it was to escape trauma, or simply self-comfort with a happy memory, he would retreat there often to meditate and fortify himself.

Hannibal described the main chambers of his memory palace as being fashioned after the Norman chapel in Palermo. And that was when it hit him - perhaps that’s where Hannibal had gone. If nothing else, he decided he wanted to go there and perhaps feel him better, make sense of the pain and rage burning through his body.

Will found himself going there day after day, seeing nothing new, and on his third visit, he’d begun to give up hope.

It was early morning; he’d walked there in the dark as he’d taken to sleeping only a few hours during the day, his body never really adjusting to the jet lag. As his footfalls echoed with loud claps in the beautiful building, he felt something distinctly different. A scent thick in the air, filling his nostrils, cloying, musky, almost burning, a sweet wood like cedar. Walking into the main hall, his eyes landed on it - something shiny, wet, organic, in the center of the front, before the altar. 

It didn’t belong. It had been placed there specifically for him.

It was a dead man, skin flayed like leather, turned inside out and twisted into the shape of an anatomically correct heart. Limbs and bones had been manipulated garishly, molded, broken and tied together to force itself into an organic, hand crafted heart.

A broken heart.

Will’s vision blurred and shimmered, and the entire room was washed in the golden glow of the sun’s rays that streamed in the chapel windows. As it did, the thing before him began to pulse and throb, as though it were beating and alive. Will began shaking, and with lips parted in wonder, he reached his fingers out to touch the surface. Light streamed from above his head, as though the heavens themselves were parting, and the thing began unfurling, antlers piercing flesh and limbs unfolding. He backed away and it approached him, turning into an animated living monstrosity, and he stumbled backwards, landing on the steps as blackness washed over his vision. His last thought was that Hannibal wanted him to find it, left it for him. He’d left him  _ his _ broken heart.

***

Hannibal had seen it all, Will finding the heart, his reaction. He’d anticipated his arrival there thanks to an old friend, Chiyoh, keeping an eye on Will since Hannibal had found out he was in Italy. He had to act quickly though. The doctor injected the empath with a  mild sedative, as Chiyoh moved the heart on a little cart, out of the way so it could be disposed of. Hannibal didn’t want the attention just yet, he simply wanted Will to see.

Will… he was here at last, and Hannibal hefted him into his arms, bridal style. It was both beautiful and painful holding him, taking in his scent, and he contemplated taking him back to his home, and having one last meal with him. No, he couldn’t, the world was far better with Will Graham in it, and furthermore, it was better for Doctor Lecter. Maybe Will had forgiven him. Be that as it may, Anthony was waiting for his return at his apartment likely, even if they didn’t live together.

Within an hour, the scene was wiped, the Valentine removed, and Chiyoh was out taking care of that. Hannibal got Will back to the hotel, depositing a beautiful note written on parchment that he would find when he woke. He undressed him to his boxers, being a gentleman despite his desires, and kissed the top of his brow, covering him up. With one final look at his beloved, he left, back to his home once more. All he could now was wait. Would Will come to him? He’d not come all this way not to, Hannibal wagered.

***

Will sat on the edge of his bed, fingering the paper with the address in his hands over and over. He’d come to, completely confused and disoriented as to how he’d gotten there. Of course, it had been Hannibal. Though he didn’t recall anything after fainting in the chapel, he could feel the ghost of his former lover’s hands on his skin, and it left him feeling too warm, too lightheaded. Tossing the crisp, textured paper on the bed, he escaped into the shower, trying to wash off the lingering shadows without success.

A day and a night went by like a blur, and he hadn’t left the hotel. He was sober now, having run out of whiskey and unwilling to leave. What was he afraid of? Running into Hannibal, being drugged again, or maybe being made to face him? But that was what he’d come here for, wasn’t it? He was exhausted and confused.

Finally, he resolved to face him. He showered and shaved, and even put on the aftershave Hannibal had left for him. Will took a drive to the villa Hannibal had jotted down in his elegant, long script, and finally there he walked up to Hannibal’s door.

Will knocked, and for a fraction of a second, steeled himself against the desire to run away. It was only a moment, and then the door opened, Hannibal standing there in a purple silk button up shirt, and grey trousers. His hair was combed back but a bit differently than he’d styled it in Baltimore. When he saw Will he smiled, drinking him in.

“You came. Hello Will, please, come in.”

Will licked his lips, and his heart pounded deafeningly, rushing in his ear like a roaring waterfall. He hadn’t seen this man in months, and now that he was in front of him once more, all the emotions came rushing back.


	7. Chapter 7

“What did you do to me?” Will demanded, walking in. Did he mean at the Palermo? In Baltimore? He didn’t even know. Tears smarted at his eyes and they reddened as much as his cheeks did. 

“Nothing more than you’ve done to me, Will...save for when I drugged you to see you home safely,” Hannibal said, closing the door behind them. In his pocket was a knife, another syringe, but he hoped he wouldn’t need it. His own heart raced in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to bring Will into his arms. “It’s good to see you. I must confess I’ve missed you a great deal.”

“Do you even understand what it did to me to know everything was a lie? Do you think I left on a whim? You deceived me. I opened myself up to you, and that meant nothing. How could I remain with you when you hid something like that from me, Hannibal?” he said, his voice rough and exhausted. “If I couldn’t trust you, I couldn’t live with you.” 

“Just as you opened yourself to me, I opened myself to you, Will.” Hannibal’s hand was in his pocket, finger skating over the items within. “It was not a small matter. I had to be certain, and yet I wasn’t. The sand trickled down the hourglass and I knew that I needed to leave the freezer open, so that you might see, and be made aware of who I am. I was telling you then, truthfully, and in my own fashion. Did you believe that it was happenstance?”

Realization washed over Will’s face then - he hadn’t even considered it had been deliberate, though now, hearing Hannibal make this admission, he wondered how he’d missed it. He rubbed his face with exhaustion, brows furrowed.

Hannibal merely watched Will, waiting for him to say something. He did say one thing though. “While you ponder my question, would you like some wine or whiskey?”

“Do you understand at all how this seems to me, Hannibal? I’ve been to hell and back. I have a family now. I had to work hard to get over you, over this. And now..I find you planned everything. You orchestrated me finding the evidence. You found me, wrote me, sent me that gift to get me here. You left me that...whatever it was at the chapel. Is there anything you haven’t calculated? How does this end, Doctor  _ Lecter _ ?” Will spat out, angry again, frustrated. Without acknowledging his question he nodded and gestured taking the drink.

“I see we are no longer on a first name basis,” Hannibal said, calm and collected as he poured himself a glass of wine. He took a slow sip, after a swirl and sniff, then licked his lips. “I merely set things in motion. How it ends is a question for us both, wouldn’t you agree? I have my version of how I’d like things to transpire, just as you do.” He stepped closer to Will, eyes narrowed slightly, an elegant and debonair radiance in his gait, danger lurking just under that. His moves were precise, calculated just as the plans that lead them there were.

Will silently allowed himself to fully take in the taller man, cursing himself for how utterly handsome he looked, looking like a predator over the brunet. To anyone else, they would see the charming mask he wore, but Will saw something different now. His cheeks heated as he swallowed hard and met his gaze evenly.

“It is my hope that you’ll see that what I offer, your perfectly molded family cannot. Tell me,” he grinned, “do you go on camping trips together, Will? Perhaps read the child a bedtime story surrounded by the scent of dogs and pine? Is it fulfilling? And does this... _ place holding _ significant other truly know you or do they see what they want; an imagined reality constructed in the banal corners of his or her mind? It is a lifestyle fit for most, but not for  _ you _ , nor would it be for me. You belong at  _ my  _ side, shrouded in all the beauty that darkness can afford us.”

“The scales have fallen from my eyes now, Hannibal. I  _ see  _ who - what - you are. My family provides me peace, yes. They’re good people. I don’t even...Thought I knew you. I thought I knew myself,” he added, shrugging his shoulders and finally looking down. He moved across the room to a chair and sat down, feeling overwhelmed with all of this. 

“I meant every word when I told you I loved you, and I still do. You know me, you knew when I helped you dispose of Randall that I was not simply a Doctor. The monster that dwells within me now, and when we were happy on the boat, and fishing, also resides in you, if only you would allow yourself to see it. I saw it when you killed Randall Tier. We are conjoined, Will. A soul split between two physical forms. According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces--often depicted in statuary and art. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate beings forcing them to spend their lives in search for their other halves. We’ve found that, in each other.”

Will felt his resistance falter, but anger and bitterness wound themselves so tightly around his heart, he almost couldn’t breathe for the pain. He rubbed the center of his chest, where it hurt the most, and took a long drink from his glass. He had to admit, there was truth in some of what Hannibal said. He hadn’t wanted to face it, but he’d enjoyed killing the man. The surge of power feeling that hot spray of blood, watching the life drain from his eyes, knowing he was the one who’d taken it from him.

Hannibal sat in the chair opposite of Will, very reminiscent of time spent in therapy; oh how things had in a sense come full circle. He took a pause, letting what he’d said fill the air as he sipped more of his wine, crossing a leg over the other. Hannibal had yet to mention his lover Anthony, but perhaps that was best saved for later.

“What will you do with this knowledge? Will you go back home to your maddeningly polite and peaceful life? Surely you did not come all this way for that. You’ve come here to be with me, or kill me. Am I wrong in that?”

Will leaned forward in the chair, holding his glass in one hand, and sighing heavily. Dark blue eyes lifted to meeting his golden gaze, and he lifted one eyebrow. “You’re not wrong, Hannibal.” He swallowed thickly, knowing he couldn’t possibly bring himself to kill again. Could he? If he were faced with the heat of the moment again, might he? Will struggled with himself as he sat there, trying his best to keep his demeanor calm and conceal the torment inside.

“I asked for your forgiveness in my letter. The first one sent to your home in Florida. I wondered if you would read it or simply toss into the nearest fire. Perhaps both. But I am elated to see you now. I have missed you a great deal, Will,” Hannibal offered, meaning every word. So Will hadn’t come to kill him. If not that, then had he come to be with him or was it for closure?

Will sighed then and relaxed back into the chair in the posh villa . He finished the drink, throwing it back and watching Hannibal as he did, the long column of his neck exposed in the movement. He swallowed and handed it to the older man, wordlessly requesting a refill. “You’re right on multiple levels, Hannibal. My new life is pleasant, sweet, calm. But I’m...I feel like an impostor. Like I’m lying to these people, like I’m something awful, some terrible monster, trying to act as though everything is normal. The truth is, I died in your cellar that night, Hannibal, and I feel as though I’ve been a walking apparition, trying desperately to blend in amongst the living. Trying to hide the lurid stench of what I am by association.” Will rubbed his thighs and examined Hannibal. “You know exactly what I felt when I killed Tier. I’m not even sure you didn’t plan that, too.”

Hannibal quirked a brow at Will for that, neither confirming or denying; Will was ever his cunning boy. The doctor refilled both of their drinks and handed Will his as he lingered near his chair for a moment, taking in his scent. Perfect. “What if I told you that I can quicken you once more? Bring you back to the living and offer you more than the banalities you've been experiencing? Will you allow me the opportunity or toss my love aside, in the proverbial cold rolling sea?”

Was it possible Will actually missed Hannibal’s overly dramatic, bombastic speeches like this? Yes, it definitely was, he mused as he licked the whiskey off his lips and watched Hannibal’s mouth closely. Interesting conversation back home was discussing Walter’s grades, talking about who was being voted off the latest reality dating show - for some reason, Molly loved those - and the humidity. Nothing could compare to what he’d felt with the Doctor, and certainly nothing could compare to the thrill of spilling blood. “Nothing’s being tossed away. Not yet, anyway. I believe I was afraid, afraid to admit that I enjoyed what I’d done. When I saw that madness in the cellar, part of me was jealous. You’d been getting high on that same sensation for who knows how long, without me. And I was angry that even in the face of knowing, I was gripped with fear.”

“Jealousy can drive us to many an act. I am jealous of the time you’ve spent with your new lover, just as you felt it before. I would love to share many a pleasure with you, Will, be it carnal, or that high of which you speak.” Hannibal leaned over Will, setting down his wine, nearing his lips to show him just what he could offer. Just as he was about to close the gap, there was a knock at the door, and he grinned, annoyed at the interruption but then again it hadn’t been entirely unexpected either. “Forgive me, Will. May I?”

Will hadn’t moved away from Hannibal, closing his eyes in anticipation of the contact. He’d be lying to himself if he said it was unwelcome. Emotions roiled within him at the nearness of the man, and he knew it was inevitable that he couple with him again. The interruption irritated him, and he sighed, nodding as Hannibal pulled away. “Of course,” he answered.

“It should not take long, Will and there is much to discuss. Things I’ve yet to tell you,” Hannibal said, somewhat covering his bases for what was to come. He smiled at him, squeezed his shoulder, and then went to open the door.

“Darling,” Anthony smiled, leaning in to kiss Hannibal soundly on the mouth. He walked inside, hanging up his coat and scarf, fine Italian loafers clacking on the marble floor. Hannibal closed the door behind them, locked it, and looked from Will to Anthony.

“Anthony. I thought we discussed calling prior to visits?”

“Ah, yes, do forgive me, love, hm?” Anthony chuckled, then strolled over to Will. “Hello there. I haven’t had the pleasure. I’m Anthony Dimmond, as I’m sure you’ve heard. And you are?”

Will felt something sick in the pit of his stomach, like a burning cancer vibrating from his gut to his chest. He forced a smile that ended up more like a snarl. “Will Graham,” he said simply, lifting an eyebrow and turning to stare at Hannibal with a burning look in his blue eyes. “And no, I had not heard of you,” he added, looking back at the other young man coolly.

Anthony turned back to Hannibal, then Will, a smirk on his handsome face. “Is it going to be  _ that  _ kind of party?”

Hannibal raised an amused brow, looking between the two men, mainly Will, to gauge his reaction.

Will snorted, barely concealing his contempt, suddenly sealed up tight and cold. Lips set into a thin line, he looked meaningfully between the two men. “No. It’s definitely _ not, _ I can assure you, Mr  _ Dimmond _ ,” he replied crisply. “I think maybe I should go.”

“Anthony, please excuse yourself to the study while I finish my conversation with Will, hm?”

“Tell you what, I was the one who came by without notice, I’ll leave, and you call me later, yes?”

Hannibal nodded, and saw Anthony out, giving him a concealed wink. When he left, he closed the door back and walked over to Will. “You needn’t go. I had no yet had the time to speak of Anthony.”

“Indeed you haven’t, I can see how such a topic would’ve slipped your mind. I don’t see a ring yet. Or is he just a fling?” Will asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his jaw jutting in a stubborn, jealous pout.

Hannibal watched with pleased amusement, though he kept it subtle as to not poke Will. He hoped to do that later. Ah but he did so enjoy his little puns, even if some were never spoken. “No ring. Merely someone with which I pass the time. A place holder, if you will,” he smirked, just a faint thing, then gracefully strolled over to stand by Will. “Did his visit bother you? I admit it was rather rude of him to show up unannounced, especially when he knows better. I suspect a little bird whispered in his ear that I had company.” 

“A little bird? Hmm. He should show himself, that little bird, as I’m pretty hungry,” Will answered sassily. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, I have Molly. And isn’t that what you called her? A place holder?” Will sniffed. “But tell me, does Anthony satisfy all your needs?” he asked, sitting back down again.  

That had been why Hannibal had chosen the word  _ ‘Placeholder’ _ to reference Anthony, to bring about realization for Will. He was happy to see it worked. The elegant doctor nearly went to Will to finish what had been started before the interruption, but seeing as he’d sat down, he decided not to. Instead, he took a seat in the chair opposite his ex-lover. “Will, when you have a craving for whiskey, and you’re given water or tea, does it satiate you and quench your thirst, or does it merely wet your palette? It serves a purpose but does not... _ satisfy _ . Anthony, is the water that was placed before me when my whole being yearned for something more. _ You. _ ”

Will’s heart pounded in his chest as he raised his gaze to meet the golden eyes before him. “I won’t lie and say I don’t feel the same. I believe you know I do, or I wouldn’t be here,” he said, leaning back and crossing his legs. “I just don’t know where to go from here, what to do.”

Hannibal felt his own heart beat faster at that. Of course Will was right, he knew he felt the same. He wouldn't have come all this way otherwise. The doctor got to his feet and walked over to Will, crouching at his feet. He took his hands, and held them in his own. “Stay with me. Write a letter to whomever back in Florida and we will have it sent via a mailing service. They need not know where you are. Or we can leave here, tonight, and start over together.”

Will sighed skeptically and rubbed his face again. “How is this supposed to work, then? We just run away together, on the lam, from country to country hoping the FBI never finds out what we’ve done...what you did….and what I did?”

“My beginnings as a man started here. This is where I honed my craft, but I did not stay. I’ve travelled all over, and never once have I been caught, Will.” Hannibal got up and went to sit back in his own chair, not wanting to crowd Will. “We could stay here for a while, and then travel. There is much more of the world to see than dusty roads, and thickly lined forests you’ve seen thus far. I’d love to show it to you, but only if it - we - are what you want.”

The brunet looked at him pensively. “You know my truth. You know very well that my life in Florida was a farce. It was me trying desperately to bury my own heartbreak. The betrayal of what you’d done. I am aware...I’m aware that simply up and leaving without contacting you was rash, but try to see it from my side. If you discovered something about me that was so significant that I’d withheld...and furthermore something that would put our lives and freedom in jeopardy...honestly, how would you react to that, Hannibal?” he asked.

“I’ve been in this jeopardy that you’ve referenced since the moment I decided to let you see beyond the veil, but it did not change my feelings for you, not impede me from forgiving you the betrayal I felt when you left. I only left after you, because I was uncertain if you would talk to Uncle Jack or not. I’m pleased you didn’t.” Hannibal kept his eyes on Will, leaning back in his chair where he picked his wine glass up once more and took a tentative sip. “I would not put your life or freedom at risk if it was within my control, Will. Be that as it may, you’ve seen me, all of me, and now it is up to you to decide if what we had and may have, is worth the risk you feel gnawing in the bone arena of your mind. Will you make a deal with the devil and explore the dark depths of the Underworld or simply run back home to confess your sins, and repent?”

“I think you and I both know the answer to that, Hannibal. How can I go back to Molly and Walter? You know what I am, as much as I know what you are. I’m not sure we can truly survive separation again. But what of your Anthony?” Will asked, a strange sort of peace settling over him.

“Anthony is handled easily enough, and in any way you choose, Will. He matters not to me. You on the other hand do,” Hannibal assured, licking his lips as he watched Will’s every move. He did understand though, and agreed, they couldn’t survive without each other. “We are forever conjoined, you and I.”

“I can send her a letter. I can’t say she’ll be that surprised.” Will stood then and strolled to the fireplace, looking in pensively. “Just because they haven’t found you now doesn’t mean they’ll never find you, you know. What were you long term plans, Hannibal?  With me or, without me?”

Hannibal nodded, watching Will still. He stayed in place. “My plans are to be with you, Will. As I've stated more than once. I had hoped we would travel the world together, experience life in ways we’ve only dreamed until now.” A pause and then, “The question is, would you be able to give up the proverbial shiny badge of nobility that comes with your job at the bureau?”

Long fingers stroked over the rough brickwork of the mantle. Will turned, his face bathed in the golden glow of flames that licked upwards, his blue eyes wet with emotion. “I would. For you, Hannibal, I would. Life is meaningless without you. Whatever this is, it is my everything. Whatever my life was, is gone. I’m...I’m done there. I left that behind. Besides, Hannibal, I haven’t worked at the bureau since I left Baltimore. I told Jack I was burned out, he was smart enough not to badger me about it. Alana...she has. I told her to fuck off though. I doubt she’ll darken my door again.” He took another long swig of his bourbon and put the glass down for good, knowing his limit. There was no need to get slovenly drunk. This was ultimately a celebration. He sighed and turned to Hannibal with a smile. There would always be that sadness there, but it was theirs, it was a shared darkness. They were conjoined in their pain, born in blood, designed in death, entwined in love, ultimately made only for each other and beautiful together.

Hannibal felt the same. Life did not hold the beauty he’d always known it to, without Will at his side. He stepped closer then, his own glass set down, and cupped Will’s jaw, thumbing along the sharp line there. A charming smile spread across his handsome and elegant face. “Then we shall explore the world together, make it ours alone,” he whispered, and gazed at him with pure Eros and passion. He’d missed him greatly, pined for him, and felt his heart lifeless in ways he’d never known before. “May I kiss you, Will?”

Will removed his glasses, laying them on the mantle. The breath he didn’t know he’d been holding came out in a sudden rush between clenched teeth as his lips parted, and jaw slackened, and he nodded, his tongue running over his own once before pressing against Hannibal’s in wordless agreement, nothing but a deep moan for his answer. It was months and months of withheld need, anguished pain, betrayal, grief, longing, mourning, loss, redemption, forgiveness, all poured without reservation from the depths of his very soul. Will’s arms wrapped around Hannibal’s neck, standing on tiptoes to reach him, hands tangling in his straight, salt and pepper brown locks.

A growl slipped out of Hannibal’s throat as he wrapped an arm around Will’s waist, the other still holding his jaw. He backed him against the wall, away from the mantle, and ground into him. There was nothing gentle in this kiss, love was ever present but he’d been pining for far too long. He licked hungrily into the hot cavern of his beloved’s mouth, slipping the hand on his jaw, into those silky, unruly curls, and gripped. It wasn’t overly hard but not the actions of a timid lover either. The doctor needed his boy to feel just how insatiable he was for him, for his mind, his sassy tongue, as well as his body. Will Graham possessed everything that Hannibal Lecter needed and at last he’d accepted his poetry. His love token. Mostly, he’d accepted his weeping heart and now they were burned together for all eternity.

Will met the Doctor's ravishing advances like a once-caged tiger, bracketing a muscular thigh around Hannibal's, his thickening passion snaking down the leg of his pants and pressing against him. He rutted like a horny teenager, plundering Hannibal's mouth in wet, sloppy, rushed kisses. Hannibal was sometimes more restrained, but Will was almost always less refined in his passion, once he opened up to a lover he was wild, untamed, and hungry. This is what he gave even now as they made out against the wall in Hannibal's villa.

In an instant, Hannibal ran both hands down the sinews of Will’s back, pressing into his shirt, and then finally to his ass. He picked him up and kissed him once more, biting hard at his lower lip. The drop of crimson that his fangs supplied was delicious, and the cannibal all but howled with dark delight at the bounty provided. “I wish to fuck you quite hard, Will. May I do that, hm? I do hope you have come well rested, for you shall be coming many times tonight, if you allow me the honor.”

“I’ve needed this, I’ve needed you. Fuck me, please Hannibal. Take me the fuck apart,” Will gasped, his voice rough with whiskey and want. His fingernails, ragged from anxiety, fishing and fixing boat motors, scratched at the bare skin of Hannibal’s furry chest when he ripped open his dress shirt, caring not for the fine fabric or buttons. In the back of his mind, he knew they could be replaced, but he didn’t really even give a damn. He just needed to press calloused palms against his hot flesh and feel the raging beast’s heart pounding beneath, knowing it was his, it belonged to him, to Will Graham. “Please,” he begged.

Hannibal grunted, hefting Will up a little higher and then walked with him into his bedroom, collapsing on the bed, on top of him. He kissed him hard and deep, shrugging off his shirt, and then his pants. He worked on Will next, only breaking the seal of their lips long enough to get them both undressed. When they were, the doctor began to grind needily against his beloved, their cocks slipping together. “I will do precisely that, Will. I will see to it that you meet your blissful end  over and over. I need you.” With that, he bit down on his lover’s neck, popping skin and releasing crimson into his waiting mouth. Glorious.

Will’s longer, more slender cock ground relentlessly against Hannibal’s thicker, uncut length, clear fluid coating them both quickly and aiding the slick glide as the friction of their bodies pressed together provided the perfect amount of delicious resistance. He cried out at the teeth that penetrated him, gripping the back of Hannibal’s head and holding him aggressively, demanding more with his grip. “I wish we could devour each other and somehow survive it, Hannibal,” he gasped, lifting his legs and wrapping them around Hannibal’s waist.

Licking up the nectar, Hannibal kissed a bloody trail to Will’s lips for that, sucking his tongue, and letting him taste himself. “As do I, Mylimasis,” he husked, rolling his hips once more before then moving down the empath’s body slowly. He took time to give each pert nipple attention, his eyes locked fiercely on beautiful blues. Will was a delicacy, and one that had been marinating for some time since they’d last partaken of one another. He intended on letting his flavor sit on his tongue so he wouldn’t miss a single note of his poignant essence. “I shall simply have to devour you in other ways.”

Hannibal knew how sensitive his nipples were, but then he’d always known that. His back arched off the bed at the contact,  every inch singing and responding to his lover like a musical instrument - no one, but no one knew him the way Hannibal did. There were fucks, there were  _ lays, _ but they were crude and meaningless compared to the spiritual, raw, conjoining of souls that he experienced with this man, Hannibal Lecter, his true mate. It was animalistic and passionate but consumed every single bit of his being at the same time. Nothing fulfilled him and filled him like coupling with Hannibal, and the time with Molly had sadly been nothing but a wasted lie and an utter denial of who he knew he was. A beast, a predator, and a monster, exactly the same as his beloved. “Then  _ do it _ ,” he snarled, baring his teeth and biting down on the apex of Hannibal’s neck, piercing skin and tasting his blood in kind.

Growling in the bite, Hannibal grasped Will’s face and kissed him hard. It was a claiming thing, sharing the taste of copper together. “Impatient boy,” he snarled back, not actually angry but rather he was highly aroused and love-struck. He took Will’s wrists and briefly pinned them above is head as he rutted their cocks once more. A bit of torment for them both, waiting to savor the feel of silky skin with skin. When he could take it no longer, he slithered down Will’s body and took his whole cock into his mouth and down his throat, eyes cast to cerulean hues. “Mmm.”

Will bucked and writhed under Hannibal as he was held down, pupils blown wide as he focused on the blood stained fangs and flexing muscles of his lover. When he’d finally felt the wet warmth of his mouth swallowing him down, Will’s hands flew to the bars of Hannibal’s headboard, gripping white knuckled as his groaned deep. His toes curled at the pleasure, thick thighs falling open completely to allow Hannibal complete access as he spread himself open like a succulent feast. “Oh f-f-f-f-ffuck...Hannnnnibal….”

Watching Will’s reaction had Hannibal’s cock throbbing and leaking from the fat tip. He gripped his lover’s thighs and pushed them to his chest, bobbing up and down on his cock a few more passes, before licking over his balls, and finally to his hot hole. As always, he was not disappointed with the taste and scent that the curly haired beauty offered. The doctor laved over his entrance, enjoying the feel of the silky pucker on his tongue before he speared inside, his free hand jerking Will’s dick. He needed more of those beautiful sounds to rolled off of his beloved’s perfect lips.

The brunet’s body tensed, instinctively clamping down around Hannibal’s tongue, but as the skilled massaging coaxed him open, he relaxed into the intimate and intense sensations. Of course, in fleeting moments alone, Will had masturbated himself, but certainly nothing could ever match this, and his sensitivity and response was clear evidence of how long it had been.

Rocking himself up and down, he tossed his head from side to side, biting his lips and groaning aloud. “Fuck Hannibal, use your fingers, fuck me with them….I have to feel you inside, soon, please,” he demanded impatiently.

It was what Hannibal wanted, Will begging for release and for  _ him. _ He moved away long enough to grab the lubricant and slicked up his fingers. “I cannot make you wait any longer, nor can I, my love,” he rumbled, and pressed on in, slowly, nearly gasping at just how tight he was. To ease the burn, he took Will’s cock head between his full lips and swirled his tongue around it; he then swallowed him down to the root, adding a second finger, and pressing against his prostate.

Will’s hips bucked up hard and he cried out, hands flying from the headboard down to Hannibal’s head, bracketing both sides to encourage him to suck as he fingered him. “Just like that, oh god,” he panted, the soles of his feet slipping as he tried to brace himself on the mattress. He shifted to lift one thigh up and reached down to grip the back of his knee and spread wider.

Hannibal growled lustfully, adding a third finger, and once he felt Will open up even more, he removed them all together and slicked up his cock. He prowled up his lover’s body, muscles rippling with each shift, and lowered himself against him, furry belly rubbing smooth. The doctor used one hand to position his cock, and entered his beauty hard, and to the hilt with a feral groan. “Ah… Will…. you feel sublime.”

Will’s eyes opened fully, penetrating his lover’s even as Hannibal entered him. “Like nothing before….ahhhh….or since….” he gasped, long fingers wrapping like vines around Hannibal’s biceps as his body relinquished all to the older man. His lips parted, teeth white, pearly and sharp against his swollen lips, and he arched up to crash his mouth greedily to Hannibal’s. He wanted to taste, feel, everything, every inch and molecule and drop, to take and be taken. “You’re mine, all mine, and I’m yours and only yours….”

Each word and sound was like a sonnet to Hannibal - one he could hear all day and night - which he captured to keep within the walls of his vast palace. He savored the way Will’s body surrendered itself to him, how it gripped, and bound them together after so long. A feast indeed, and one they would both be partaking of from here on out. With equal fervor and gluttony, the doctor plundered Will’s mouth, taking his tongue into his mouth to suck and nip at, deadly teeth scraping there. He began to move in a beautiful rhythm, strong hips carrying him in and out of his beloved, dark beauty. “Yes, always. Aš tave myliu, mano meile.”

“I love you, Hannibal,” Will echoed. His fingertips slipped through the sweat that gathered along Hannibal’s muscular form, his body rolling like the ebb and flow of the tide with his lover, meeting each thrust with staccato grunts. He licked over the still bleeding bite mark on Hannibal’s neck and fastened his teeth in anew, groaning at the fresh burst of blood on his tongue. There was no one else he ever could or would do this with. He pulled back, blue eyes wild and feral as he cradled sharp cheekbones in both palms, searching Hannibal’s face with a look of love and worship in his eyes. “Oh, Hannibal....”

Hannibal set up a medium pace then, taking his time but not going too slow. He gazed into Will’s eyes, recognizing that love and returned it with his own as their hearts seemed to beat as one. “My Will…” he murmured, softness there before that dark flash of the beast within sparked again. He picked up speed, heavy balls thudding against Will’s ass as he fucked into his hot velvety opening.

Will’s long neck exposed, he threw his head back against the pillow, his curls a mess against the pillow as his eyes remained fixed on the handsome Doctor. He felt so full, like Hannibal was so deep inside him, deeper than he’d ever been before. He hike his legs higher, crossing his ankles behind Hannibal’s neck to hold him in place, nearly folded in half as he tried so desperately to take as much as he physically could of the man. “God, I love you so much, I love you, I want you forever, I never want this to end, please, Hannibal, please never leave me…”

The words moved Hannibal. They were vulnerable, honest, and full of feeling. He slowed his paced just a fraction, driving deep and long inside his boy as he grasped his face gently and held his gaze. “I love you, Will. I shall never leave you, I am incapable of such an atrocity. We are wound together for all time,” he whispered, and plunged back inside again, his cock tapping the empath’s prostate just as he leaned closer to kiss Will slowly, grunting as sweat dripped down his back.

Will looked inside Hannibal and it felt literal in every way, his eyes like gateways to his soul, and within the beryl stained glass he saw his mind palace. It was exquisite, sun streaming in through the windows, candles lit, the flames dancing like live beings, everything so much like the beauty he’d seen at the Palermo Chapel. It was a place meant for worshiping each other, where it all conjoined in a beautiful blend of the carnal and scared, raw, ethereal, pure ecstasy. He felt himself falling freely inside - “Hannibal….I’m….” - he whispered, nails digging into flesh, mouth open, his voice a ragged, urgent whisper, and he spilled over his belly, overcome.

Not every chamber in Hannibal’s palace was beautiful, light, or high; danger lurked there within the halls, there were holes in the floor of his mind, but anywhere that was devoted to Will, to their love, was exquisite. He let his beloved in, dedicated several wings, and rooms to him, and as such would pay tribute. The darker rooms they could still share, as it was blood and breath that bound them, heart and brain, soul as well as flesh. As the doctor felt his lover come, he snapped his hips faster and a half a dozen more thrusts had him finding release as well. He licked his own named from Will’s mouth, feeding from it as he pumped seed inside, coating his walls. “Will, ah, Mylimasis-!”

Will’s body took him, milking every drop he offered, absorbing him into himself, sucking him dry and feeding from his lips, every word savored like the decadent, life-giving sustenance it was to him. He desired every corner, dark and light, treasured each piece, and would never shy from any part of this man he’d taken into him body, mind, heart and soul. “Hannibal, my beloved,” he gasped, kissing the words from his mouth, unable to stop a smile of joy as his blue eyes shone, full of darkness and light all at once. Just as there was beauty in death and rebirth, so there was in the little death of their pleasure together.

“Always,” Hannibal whispered, his hips slowing to a stop as he kissed him again and brushed an errant curl from his damp brow, his own hair hanging in his fierce eyes. He took in Will’s scent, every twitch of his lips, and flutter of lash; all of Will Graham was perfect to him. The room was silent save for their breathing and the soft words of Eros uttered. There was no place else Hannibal would rather be than there with his beauty. “You never cease to astound me with you wit, and with your heart, my love.”

“We ‘re bound forever, and you have my heart forever, until death and beyond, my beloved Hannibal. No matter what happens. I...I love you, Hannibal Lecter.”

They had many places to go and see, meals to enjoy together too, but what really mattered was they were together, and nothing could shake that. Not death, not captivity. Anthony mattered not, nor did Molly.  _ They _ were what mattered, they were just alike, conjoined in ways mere man could not comprehend. Hannibal rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Will, kissing him softly, listening to his heart. He smiled and covered them up. “I love you, Will Graham, that shall never change. I am yours eternally.”


End file.
